Drifting Away
by Raikune
Summary: [Chapter 8: 'I am yours, Akito.']Eventual AkitoxHatori shounenai. Akito is becoming more resigned to his curse. When Hatori tries to help, he accidentally hurts him. Wounded and bewildered, Akito drives him away. What will Hari do? FIN
1. Broken Trust

First Fruits Basket fic so be kind. Now, I know the Akito spoiler even though I haven't even read it, because it's hard to poke around on the FB section and not find out. I was very disappointed – but my fic involves male Akito because it's more sexy that way, what with dark bishounen angst, and I prefer him that way. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Akito or Hatori (dammit) and I'm not making money offa this.

Will contain shounen-ai. Hatori and Akito go soo great together. Title will be scrapped as soon as I think of a better one.

* * *

_Some people are born to live. Others, to die._

* * *

Akito Sohma, god of the Zodiac, curled up on his bed and tried to sleep. Every time his pale lids would wander downwards, some new pain would start gnawing at his weak body and he would hiss, and swear, and shudder until it ebbed.

This had been happening for several hours. He was exhausted, and irritable. Hatori had been unable to rattle off any medical solution for his ailments and the hopelessness of it all was starting to seep into him.

The young god curled his dark head into the crook of his elbow. He could feel wetness pricking the corners of his eyes and smiled. Depression was not a new symptom to Akito…anyone would feel depressed if they had to live their lives constantly suffering like he did…and he let the tears come, flowing down his cheeks to leave grey blotches where they fell onto his pillows.

_No one should live like this._

He couldn't remember the nights, because delirium sent him into a hot, suffocating feverish fog where phantom faces swam and mocked him, and his eyelids were leaden weights, and he was helpless, weak as a kitten. The only memories he did retain were of Hatori's calm, steady voice, sounding off his vital statistics, and of the doctor's cool hand against his hot forehead.

He was a sacrifice. An offering to whatever sadistic gods there were so that others may live. Not that they cared, or if they did they never showed it. His Juunishi: animals that they were, that crept and cowered from his black gaze, unknowing, ungrateful animals. Akito was their guilty secret, something they rarely spoke of, kept away in a dark room.

The grey blotches had become a stain. Akito sobbed silently, ignoring the ache in his lungs. Mucus was building in his nostrils and throat. He no longer cared.

_Tears will not change anything._

And yet they would not stop. The young man cried and cried, until mucus clogged his nasal passages and he coughed and choked. He did not wipe it away.

---

Hatori typed away at his laptop, preoccupied with updating his clinical records. Every so often his right hand would rise and swipe at the sheaf of hair that concealed his near-blind eye in an unconscious gesture. At last he sighed and closed the program, feeling his neck crick as he stretched his arms behind his head.

He glanced at the clock. It would be time for Akito's mid-afternoon checkup in five minutes. Hatori frowned. _Akito…_

Although he would not admit it to anyone else at the moment, the doctor was starting to worry.

It was normal for Akito to be unwell. Being ill seemed to be Akito's natural state: all Hatori did was to try and keep the symptoms under control and hope they didn't evolve into something more serious that was life-threatening. If Akito had suddenly showed signs of perfect health Hatori would've dragged him to the nearest hospital to see what was wrong.

So medical problems, all right. But now the Dragon was beginning to feel unsure about something else…his main patient's emotional state. That seemed to be changing as well. It was perfectly normal for Akito to be cold, emotionless, cruel, occasionally breaking into angry outbursts and throwing something breakable against the wall. Hatori wished it wasn't so, but that was Akito.

Instead, the young god had been…quieter. The angry outbursts had continued, but there was hopelessness in Akito's ravings that Hatori had not detected before. Akito would spend hours…days…staring at the garden outside his window or lying on the porch, with an oddly blank expression on his face. He had the look of someone who had given in. Seeing the pale shoulders slumped in futility made Hatori anxious.

The doctor was afraid that Aktio was becoming depressed. Well, more depressed then usual. Any self-pity that Akito had…and there was a lot of it…came with righteous anger that buzzed and seethed under the clan head's skin. Akito's burning desire to revenge himself on all those who were healthy kept deep depression at bay.

Until now. Hatori rubbed his temples.

Another glance at the clock told him he was late, and he quickly collected his doctor's bag and checked that all the necessary equipment was inside. Two minutes later he was striding down the hallway towards Akito's room, and in the doorway.

---

The young god was on his bed. By the half-grey light coming through the window, Hatori could see he was curled like a fetus, as if trying to occupy the smallest amount of space possible. The yukata had slipped off both shoulders to puddle at the hips, presenting to Hatori the bare, pale curve of Akito's spine. Vertebrae and ribs twitched as Akito shivered in his half-sleep.

_He's so thin, _the Dragon thought with shock. _I thought he was eating at least more then half of his meals…_He berated himself for not keeping track. _I should pay more attention to changes in his daily routine!_

Hatori's eyes scaled Akito's form again. Illness had diminished the amount of flesh, but had outlined the still-working muscles in the shoulders and back, giving Akito's body a slender, tapered look. The pale back lying curled against paler sheets…Hatori thought the symmetries strangely sensual, a perfect bedroom scene.

_Oh my God._

The doctor's eyes widened. _I didn't just think that. I didn't. Did not._

Akito shivered again, and he snapped back to the present.

Softly, as not to surprise to clan-god, Hatori padded across to the bed and peered down at Akito's face. He was greeted with the sudden image of Akito's dark lashes laid against his pale cheek. It struck him as strangely beautiful.

He recoiled at this second treacherous thought and stared furiously at the opposite wall, daring the shadows there to comment.

_I did NOT just think that Akito was beautiful. Or sensual, in any way. Kami, what's gotten into me?_

He shook his head firmly. _I need to get more sleep. That's all. I'm just tired. _

He looked again; saw that the lashes were matted with tears. He saw the glistening tracery on the nose and upper lip, on the hollowed cheeks. Hatori bit his lip. _He's been crying in his sleep. Again._

Hatori needed Akito to be awake for his check-up. The doctor hesitated, and placed a warm hand on Akito's shoulder. The clan-head jerked, trembled, mumbled something before coming into muzzy consciousness.

"Ha…tori?"

"Yes, Akito-san. It's time for your check-up." The Dragon took a tissue from his pocket and began to wipe Akito's face. His hand was batted away.

"Do _not _do that, Hatori. I'm not a child."Akito struggled up from his nest of blankets and glared, swaying like a cobra. With perfect impudence he plucked the tissue from Hatori's grip and began cleaning himself.

He was bare from the waist up. Not daring his eyes to move downwards, Hatori tugged the yukata back onto painfully thin shoulders. "You should always keep yourself covered, Akito-san. You know you're prone to colds."

"Just get on with my check-up, Hatori."

The good doctor listened to Akito's respiration, heart rate, looked into his ears and eyes still pink-rimmed, and moved his larger fingers along the curving warmth of the young man's throat. His expert touch detected swollen glands. Akito flinched.

"Ah! It hurts."

"Your throat is sore. I'll give you some lozenges. And…" Hatori forced a purely medical eye to operate on Akito's slender frame, "I want you to start eating your meals, Akito-san. I think part of your susceptibility to illness has to do with you not maintaining a balanced diet and therefore weakening your immune system. I want to see you eat everything that's on your tray, every day."

Akito narrowed his black eyes. "Are you _ordering _me, Hatori?"

"Doctor's orders," Hatori said coldly, feeling a twinge in his chest as the young man gritted his teeth. "You should want to try and get better, Akito-san, for your own sake."

"You don't want me to get better," Akito whispered.

"What?"

"You don't _care." _He balled his hands into fists. "_None _of you care whether I live or die. You hate me…you all _hate me!" _

"Akito-sa –"

"If I died, you'd be glad, wouldn't you? The curse would break! And you wouldn't feel guilty, you would forget about your dirty hateful sick secret kept in the Main House – "

"Aki –"

Akito was weak, and Hatori saw the blurred right fist and caught it by the wrist, on instinct. Akito hissed and snarled, trying to wrench away.

"I will _not _get better!" he screamed. "I will never be healthy, never ever again! I am _suffering, _I am _dying _so you will _live _and you tell me _I_ _should try and get better –"_

"Akito-san, calm down!"

The god turned and twisted, Hatori unconsciously gripping Akito's thin wrist tighter and tighter as he fought. Akito, black eyes blazing, was shouting again, and Hatori felt rather then heard the tiny crack of bone.

_Did I_

_Did I just_

Akito stopped shouting.

As the petrified Dragon watched, Akito's face grew whiter and whiter, his eyes wider and wider and his jaw closed and trembled and Hatori released his grip. His mouth was bone-dry.

"Akito…"

Yellow-purple bruises were blossoming on Akito's frail wrist-bones. There was no blood. Akito stared at the wrist as if it weren't his, before raising shocked eyes to Hatori's bluegreen ones.

"…You broke my wrist."

"I...I didn't…"

_I didn't mean to_

"You broke it," the god said in a strange, pained voice. "You grabbed my wrist and broke it. I saw it. I felt it. I feel it still."

"Let me look at it." Hatori crept out with one hand. Akito yanked his arm back and cradled it to his chest.

"No. Don't touch me."

"I'm your doctor."

"You **hurt **me."

Hatori's pulse was thundering in his ears. "Let me bind it up, Akito-san, and put a cast on…it…" His voice dwindled as Akito gave him a white, blazing look.

"Get out, Hatori."

"You need medical attention. Let me just -"

He reached for Akito and stopped as the young man cringed like a whipped dog.

"I said **get out."**

"I – "

"_Get out of here!"_

The Dragon was on his feet and ducking as Akito swiped a leftover plate with his left hand and flung it at his head.

"_I won't forget this! I-I_ trusted_ you, Hatori!" _Ceramic shards exploded on the doorframe. _"Get me another doctor – NEVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN – "_

Akito's anguished bellows became muffled as Hatori fled, not stopping until he reached his office and locked the door, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. After a while the yelling stopped, and became horrible, shuddering sobs.

Hatori put his face in his hands.

* * *

A/N: So, whaddaya think? I know this isn't an obvious start for shounen-ai, but it'll come. I want reviews before I update though. I accept constructive criticism but remember this is my first FB fic. Please tell me what you think! 


	2. Withdrawal

A/N: I do not own Fruits Basket, but I do own Dr. Minekura. So there.

* * *

Late afternoon. Dusky shadows crawled across the porch, creeping and sliding over the prone figure sprawled across the wooden slates.

Akito shook, with sadness and exhaustion. He held his dull throbbing wrist to his chin and nibbled on his index finger in agitation. He was bewildered and hurt.

_Why, Hatori?_

Immediately after he sent his Dragon from the room, Akito had gone into one of his rages, bellowing and attempting to destroy various pieces of furniture in the room. The bedstead was the source of the cuts and bruises on his wrists and arms. Even his broken wrist had suffered more punishment. Exhaustion had made him stop and crawl out onto the porch like a dying animal to sob until fitful sleep overtook him.

Now he was awake again, and confused.

Hatori had **never **hurt him like that before. The doctor was gentle, if mechanical, and had never once touched Akito in harm. Hatori cupped his face when checking his temperature, ran solemn fingers over his body in pursuit of rashes or sores, massaged him when painkillers were not enough. He did NOT break bones.

He wondered what he must have done make the doctor act that way. What was the impetus to turn the Dragon against his God? And (his breath stumbled) he wondered if Hatori would turn the other Junnishi against him?

A seed of paranoia sprouted in his brain.

No one could touch Akito, unless he wanted them to. This was unwritten Zodiac law. He was a god, not to be touched by ordinary humans. Hatori had been above this because he was the doctor, and Akito his patient.

Now Hatori had hurt him. And Akito found suddenly that the tables were turned against him.

A Zodiac member had _injured him…_

"How dare he…" Akito whispered.

The other Juunishi might get ideas. It was no secret they loathed their leader. They might _mutiny. _They would.

Akito found himself sitting up.

"They won't get me….they won't…_how dare you, Hatori!"_

A sudden bout of coughing racked his lungs. He doubled over, clutching at the pain in his midriff. Every breath was snatched from him, the god found himself gasping for air.

"Ah…! _Ah…!"_

He coughed until he spat blood onto the wooden boards. Akito wiped his mouth with his yukata sleeve, and lay down until the world stopped wavering. His breath came in harsh jerks.

_Hatori_

He cursed himself. No, he would not call that traitor's name ever again.

Yet those soft syllables would not leave his mind. Akito turned on his side and fell into unconsciousness.

---

He awoke in the evening to find alien hands on him. They were gently probing his injured wrist. He reacted fast as a snake and strong male hands pushed him down.

"Lie still," spoke a soft voice. "Your body's exhausted. Lie still, Akito-sama, and let me bind your wrist."

Dr. Minekura was amused. When he arrived at the Sohma estate, to be briefly greeted by a pale, desperate Hatori and then led to the private room of the family head, he was expecting someone more intimidating. What he found was a small, pale, pretty Japanese ghost draped like a forgotten sock on the cold porch. He'd taken the lithe form in his arms – so light! – and laid him on his bed, covering him up snugly. The boy – he knew he was male now, but he was so pretty he could have been a girl – had not stirred once, until this instant.

The small pointed face staring dazedly up at him blinked its large, lightless eyes. Dr. Minekura recognised the shiny, pallid complexion of the chronically ill, saw the grey crescents underneath both eyes and felt a twinge of pity. There was no god here, just a sick child.

"I am Dr. Kiro Minekura," he said smoothly, without pause in his work. "Your…former doctor…hired me to be your caretaker, as par your orders, Akito-sama," he added, seeing the dark eyes flare, "And he was so worried about your health and so desperate to find a replacement doctor that he called me right away. I hope that I am to the standards you expect."

Introductions over, he reapplied himself to the task of bandaging Akito's wrist. Silence ticked on.

Akito watched him, taking in every inch of this stranger with his clinical coat.

He did not look Japanese. Minekura was tall, bronze-skinned and broad-shouldered, and the large, deft fingers upon Akito's wrist restrained a strength that could have certainly broken a whole arm. His dark hair was sleeked back above tawny, mellow eyes and a humorous mouth. His voice, Akito noted, was curiously deep and lowing, like a bull's, and his gaze kind.

He relaxed his body. _Yes, I could trust this gentle giant. For now._

In the meantime, it was time assert his authority. He'd already noted the respectful 'Akito-sama.'

He cleared his throat, felt little pinpricks. "Dr. Minekura. I present my compliments for your punctuality and professionalism. You're staying here at the Sohma estate?"

A gentle nod.

"At the Main House?"

Another nod.

"Good." Akito winced, his voice was becoming hoarse. He coughed. "Then, as – as _my former doctor _might have explained, you're to be on call twenty four hours a day. To me. To be ready to aid me when I need you, because of my illness."

"Yes, Akito-sama."

_He's too calm. Properly, he should fear me a little._

"You're an _outsider_. You're not a Sohma," Akito said sharply. "Do you…know of our position? Do you understand, properly, Dr. Minekura, the importance that is placed upon me?"

"I know of the Sohma curse," was the placid reply. "Hatori has told me the peculiarities. I know you are clan head, considered a god, but that's all I know about you…" His words drifted into a sudden, black silence.

Akito hurled his upper body free from the bedclothes and grabbed Minekura by the tie in his left hand, yanking it so the man was forced to meet him eye-to-eye.

"_Do **not**," _he snarled, _"speak the name 'Hatori' in my presence again, do you understand? The man broke my wrist! He is a TRAITOR!"_

Minekura looked into the boy's eyes. "Yes, Akito-sama."

Akito scowled. "_Then, _understand I am more then a simple clan-head. The Zodiac…**my **Zodiac…worship me. They would not live out their worthless lives unless I was here to die for them. I protect them. I guide them. Every action of their lives. All fear me. All revere me. I am their** God.**

"Everything is a reflection of my will."

Minekura watched silently. The adolescent was breathing heavily, eyes too bright.

"You are not a Sohma. I don't expect you to understand. All _you _need to do…" there it was, as he expected, a malicious purr, "is care for me. I am the center of your life, Minekura. Your only allegiance is to _me." _

"As you wish, Akito-sama." Mellow eyes stared back at him."Try not to exert yourself anymore. I suggest you rest for now, to conserve your strength."

Akito flopped back, fuming. _Is he always so calm? Damn him! He's not afraid…_

Bluegreen orbs chilled his eye-memory.

_But then, you weren't afraid either._

_---_

Hatori paced in his room, smoking countless cigarettes, then cursing himself and fanning the smoke out the window. What he really, really felt like doing right now was rushing into Akito's room and healing his horrible, broken wrist, and then kneeling before the family head and begging for forgiveness. But he would not. He was stoic. And he did have some dignity left.

All he could do was wait for Kiro to be done, and report to him. Hatori exhaled loudly. Of his few friends in medical school, Kiro was the only one he stayed in contact with. Thank Kami for small miracles.

Minekura was born in the Year of the Ox. He was certainly as strong as one. Hatori fervently hoped his benign bovine manner would pacify Akito. A strong capable doctor was what Hatori needed right now…because right now he was nerveless wreck.

_I can't believe…what happened. It was all… too fast._

In his mind's eye he saw Akito's shoulder muscles tensing, the blurred fist, his snap-instinct reaction…Akito was fighting back, turning and wrenching, Hatori was trying to hold him still-

_Gripping that boy-wrist tighter and tighter_

_Until_

**CRACK.**

"God_dammit!"_

He slid into his office chair.

"Something wrong, Hari?"

The Dragon jerked in surprise. Kiro was leaning casually against the doorjamb, absently fiddling with his doctor's coat. He was smiling warmly.

Hatori stared. _There's no way anyone can be smiling after spending time with Akito. No way._

"He's fine now," his friend continued, "He was drowsy when I left him. Very close to sleep."

"…What?"

"You were going to ask how Akito was, weren't you?"

"I…well…"

"It was a clean break," Kiro continued, shifting effortlessly into the medical monotone that Hatori recognised from his own voice, "There is bruising on the greater trochanter – or that's what I think. Akito refused to go to a hospital to be x-rayed."

Hatori groaned.

"It's probably for the best anyway. Like I said, it was a clean break and should heal in seven to nine days. I advise minor physical therapy afterwards, because of his weak condition…are you listening to me?"

"How are you standing there?" Hatori demanded. "How can you rattle off medical opinions at me when you just saw Akito Sohma, feared by all the Juunishi? Why didn't he throw something at you?"

Kiro's tawny eyes twinkled. "That's my little secret. How did you manage all these years, Haa-san?"

"I…" Hatori slumped. "I…detached myself."

"I can see why."

Silence.

"He's a very disturbed boy," Kiro continued softly.

"…"

"I can see it. He's not normal, by any means. He's aggressive, violent…controlling. And bitter, very bitter. Very…sad."

Hatori's silence continued.

"But," the other man continued, in his deep, lowing tones, "He's a boy. Still in adolescence. Akito is weak, sickly…and yet he keeps an entire family in his thrall."

"You're not a Sohma," Hatori snapped. "You wouldn't understand."

Kiro beamed. "Yes, that's exactly what he said."

The Dragon stood. "I've had enough of this conversation, Kiro. As long as Akito is taken care of, little else matters to me."

"What did he mean," Kiro overrode him, "when he said to me 'They would not live out their worthless lives unless I was here to die for them'?"

"It is his curse," was the flat reply. "This conversation is over, Kiro." Hatori turned his back on the man, dismissing him. He knew he was being unfair. The door clicked behind him, receding footsteps reached his ears. The doctor let out shaky breath.

_What am I going to do?_

_---_

Midnight.

Akito Sohma rolled and sweated under the pall of feverish dreams.

Boy-hands gripped and tugged at the sheets, as if the god feared his bed would overturn and deposit him into some unknown abyss. He coughed harshly, gaspingly, constantly. Darkness swaddled him in its familiar cocoon. And in the base of his sick mind, Akito knew this nightmare would never end.

A particularly loud cough from him made his eyes fly open. Akito breathed steadily, feeling damp sweat-soaked sheets beneath him, and closed his eyes briefly. Even the dark made his head spin.

His wrist throbbed.

"Hatori…" he whispered. Or he thought he did. Only the ghost of a breath made it past his lips.

Where was his Dragon?

He sat up, by inches, by as much as his drained strength would allow. His dark room whirled about him, he saw the floor tilting, listing through his hot eyes.

He tried to shout for Hatori. Nothing happened. His throat was sore, so sore.

At last his strength left him, he lurched backward, no longer able to keep himself upright, and he put his slight weight full on his injured wrist. The jarring pain seared him awake and he clamped the bandaged limb to his chest, his mouth in a grinning pain-rictus, eyes wide.

The god would not scream.

And then Akito remembered everything as pain crashed down his arm, he tried to keep his cries locked behind his teeth but they burst out, and he was screaming with anger sadness betrayal, yelling, no _roared _for Minekura, and there were footsteps, and light, and gentle tanned hands to hold his quaking body, a lowing, soothing voice. Akito dimly remembered swallowing painkillers and a sedative, before being washed away by gentle, dark waves.

Kiro looked at the lithe body nestled to his own, saw the tearstains and felt the sweat. Akito's sickness radiated from his body in hot, delirious heat. The doctor decided it wouldn't do to his leave his new patient alone for the night and settled back on the large bed. After fifteen minutes he was asleep as well.

Hatori watched them.

He'd been awake since he heard Akito's terrible cries, and was on his feet and out of bed, hand reaching for his medical bag before he realised. Slowly, stupidly, he'd sat back down, hearing Kiro's competent footsteps enter Akito's room. The cries soon stopped.

And then there was nothing but prickling silence.

The Dragon couldn't stand it. He had to see how Akito was.

He'd walked noiselessly down the corridor, then peered through the crack in door of the hot bedroom.

His stomach lurched.

Akito was curled against Kiro's side, almost dwarfed by the larger man. One of his hands was clutching Kiro's pajama shirt tightly. The other, his broken bandaged one was cuddled to his own chest. Kiro had one arm around Akito. The intimacy of their positions made the Dragon's blood curdle.

Hatori watched them for a long time.

And then he watched only _him._

His God.

He watched Akito until dawn came, and left when the couple started to stir.

* * *

A/N: Heehee. I love AkitoxHatori. Other Zodiac members may turn up soon. Please review…I won't live unless you review… 


	3. Obsession

Hatori's beginning little monologue here was inspired by the beginning of 'Lolita' by Vladimir Nabokov. The style and words are not exactly identical, but are pretty close.

* * *

_Akito. My Light, my God._

_A-ki- to: push sound up your throat, then with the first gentle exhale of breath, click your tongue against the soft back palate, end with the tongue tip tapping on the front teeth. Ah. Kee. Toe._

_Akito._

_He is the imperious Akito-sama to servants and Sohma alike, standing five foot five in his yukata. He is Akito-san to closer Juunishi. But in my mind he was always Akito. _

_And in my imaginary arms, Aki-san. _

_Why? Why am I thinking of you, Akito? Why won't you leave my mind? Is it guilt for hurting you?_

_These hands broke you. These doctor fingers of mine clamped tight on your frail wrist and cracked your bones. I bruised your divine ivory flesh. _

_I'm guilty, guilty of sin against my God. _

_Will I ever be forgiven?_

Hatori rubbed his face. It had been three days since the accident and only thing in his tired mind was Akito, Akito, Akito. He had not directly seen his God since – he dared not disobey Akito's furious order to never come near him again. The Dragon was wracked by guilt and it showed in his normally expressionless face. His eyes had a haunted look. And now the doctor had another thing to squirm about.

He had taken to watching Akito.

Not spying, he assured himself, he wasn't following his leader everywhere…Akito seldom went outside his room…but watching. Whenever he was near.

Watching the clan-head while he slept (alone or with Kiro), while he cat-napped on the porch, walked in the gardens. Always at a furtive distance of course, Akito had razor-sharp senses.

Hatori wasn't quite sure why he was doing this. Perhaps he felt guilt at not being at his side constantly anymore.

The troubling thing was, the more he watched Akito, the less he was watching and the more he was admiring. He was in awe.

_How could anyone not see this? Kami, have I been blind or ignorant all this time?_

Akito truly WAS a God.

He was a divinity of opposites: beneath that sickly pallor was luminescence, behind every pained strained movement, exquisite grace, behind that black gaze, dark intensity. And so much more. Hatori's heartbeat quickened whenever he thought about the small, aching details that he knew about the Sohma lord and were hidden to everyone else.

Such as the silky gloss of Akito's hair in moonlight. That little bone in his ankle that twitched in his sleep. That milky slope of shoulder and spine that was revealed when his yukata hung sloppily around his waist. Every shiver, every glance, every absent brush of eyelashes reverberated and thundered in Hatori's skull. Only known to him, to him.

And, when no one was around, in the small hours of the morning, he let his mind creep back to that fateful day, which had caused so much pain and wonder. The Dragon allowed himself to slowly devour those first apple-sweet moments, before Akito's rage. That bare back. That slender body. Those matted lashes.

_What is this? What am I doing?_

He asked himself that again and again.

Hatori broke through his afternoon Akito-daze when he heard a door slide open. Cautiously he peered around the tree he was leaning against to look at Akito's porch, and stiffened. The boy was standing there, looking about. Hatori hunkered down but he was hidden by greenery and the god's onyx eyes past over him.

Hatori did an unconscious medical scan of Akito. Old habits were hard to break.

_Colour: pale, wan, more so then usual_. _Pupils: too much distance to tell. Skip eyes, ears and wait until he happens to speak to assess throat condition. Chest and lungs: he's coughing from his lungs…bronchitis? Does Kiro know about this? Physique: thin…almost elegantly slender…ah! Stop! ... Blood pressure: unknown. Right wrist: broken. Because of me._

Unaware of this monologue, Akito slowly stepped off his porch and padded barefoot into the warm grass. The sun was shining hotly, brightly, and he squinted through his layer of bangs. Minekura had warned him against going out in such a heat, but Akito had responded that he was God, and if he wanted to go and fry his brains out he would. Anything to get away from his stuffy room.

Down to the small pond then, his yukata whispering over grass and leaves. Small twigs and stones nipped his feet but he could care less. He cut a demure figure, head bowed, sleeves and yukata trailing in his wake, gracefully walking along the pond's edge.

Bluegreen eyes watched him.

The sun really _was _hot. Akito was sweating already. With an irritated noise he shoved his yukata back from his shoulders, and tilted his head up, squinting. Bad idea. The light clawed under his eyelids and sent shooting pain through his forehead. He sat with a grunt, rubbing his eyes.

_Why does anyone go outside at all?_

Oh yes, he knew his Dragon was watching him. He was out of sight but not out of mind, Akito was attuned to the animal presence of his Zodiac and felt Hatori's distinct aura. It annoyed him that the man was so near. Yet he couldn't bring himself to call Hatori out.

And the Dragon's devotion was almost pathetic at this point. Akito hid a smirk. _He can't forget me. He can't erase his guilt._

He held up a finger. A sparrow immediately alighted on it, and the boy brought it closer to his face.

Hatori gazed as another bird landed on his broken wrist, its sleight weight not bothering the god. It twittered. Two more landed and watched this pale, familiar human through beady eyes. The doctor was enraptured. He rose to his knees, and crept a little closer, so he could see Akito's profile.

Eventually Akito sneezed and birds scattered. He flopped back with a small groan, yukata sliding off his arms. The sight of his exposed milky body set strange shivers up Hatori's spine.

After about twenty minutes of gazing (Akito appeared to be asleep, left arm thrown over his face), the Dragon grew worried. The Sohma lord wasn't used to such heat and Hatori was anxious that he would suffer heat stroke if left alone any longer.

Then Akito groaned.

He twitched and opened sun-hammered eyelids. Awake, he realised he was so hot! How long had he been out here? Akito rolled over to one side, blinking furiously. Even his eyelids were hot. And when he tried to focus…

Hidden by trees, Hatori was a few seconds short of having a panic attack. The god was disoriented, mumbling and scrabbling feebly at the grass-roots. The heat had found him. Hatori was torn between running for Kiro and running over himself and dragging Akito indoors. He crouched in the undergrowth, paralyzed.

---

_Where…? On the bank. My face…hot. My hands, my sides, my innards…hot. Grass. The shade where? Inside where? What do I? My sight grey blurry shapeless shapes sliding floating why?_

_Hot _

_Afraid. weak_

_Head spinning. Where is…Hatori Minekura doctor help. Help me. Someone_

_Shapeless mouth dry_

_Someone comes._

_Minekura?_

_Pale hands not mine. Gripping tugging pulling. Voice yelling. Not…_

_Ha to ri?_

_I see you. I see you eyes grey bluegreen afraid. Near me. You are near me you are near me _

_Inside where shade where I need_

_Brown hands bull voice help me. Hatori where?_

_Leaving._

_Backing away eyes afraid. Of touching me. Ha tor i_

_don't leave_

_don't go_

_shade_

_stay_

_don't leave me_

_darkness_

_dampness_

_Don't_

_gone_

---

It was lucky; Kiro thought later, that Hatori had been watching Akito. Kiro thought he might. Akito had sent him away, saying he wanted to enjoy the gardens in peace. It was lucky Hatori had seen him. It was unlucky that Akito had a minor case of heat-sickness.

He moistened a cool cloth and gently wiped the boy's forehead. An IV had been set up to administer necessary electrolytes. Akito didn't stir.

Late afternoon approached. The doctor became aware of a haggard shape hovered poised as a question mark in the doorway.

"Come in, Hari," he said quietly. "I don't think he can recognise anyone now."

"I don't think I should," answered the shape.

"Then come in and give me a second opinion, even though I know I'm right and it's heat-sickness."

Hatori hesitated, fidgeted, sighed, walked in. He approached Akito as if approaching a dying king. Fingers hesitated hovering above the dry sheets.

Akito's eyelids fluttered.

The Dragon stopped.

"I shouldn't be here –"

Kiro snapped him around. "He can't see you. I know what heat-sickness is like. Stay, Hari, give me your opinion and then you can leave."

Hatori closed his eyes briefly, composed himself. _Stay calm. This is work. _

He checked the thin fast pulse (skin still warm), ran tense fingers over the flushed cheeks, and checked the body temperature (98.5 degrees Fahrenheit). Akito's dry and cracked lips glistened with salve.

"Heat sickness," he concurred shortly. Then added, "Ninety-nine percent probability." He had come top in their class, after all.

"Damn that one percent." Kiro chuckled.

Hatori looked from him to Akito, and felt something curl in his ribcage. "He's feverish. What have you done to cool him down?"

Kiro gave him a sidelong glance. "Everything, aside from dumping him in an ice bath. The shock would kill him."

The Dragon jumped at this irrelevant detail. Anything to keep the argument going, to stay in this room, with its sick occupant. "Well, a lukewarm bath could cause a slight downward gradient in temperature –"

"Let me tell you why that isn't my method, Ha'ri – "

Below, unnoticed, Akito stirred.

---

_coolness_

_Oh icy coolness on my head_

_Where am I?_

_Voices_

_Pain _

_Why am I so weak? I'm lying down_

_Can't talk_

_voices_

_lowing_

_an ox a bullin this room? How?_

_another voice_

_I know this voice so calm so cold _

_Ha ri _

_You're herewhy are you here why_

_Will you leave again hari_

_You disobeyed me_

_Your God_

"- causes chills. You're a quack, Ha'ri." A lowing laugh.

"He's your patient. I'm just warning you."

Akito began to cough. Eyelids fluttered, then opened, lightless eyes staring out at the world. His hand opened and closed reflexively, when he spoke it was with a wispy cracked voice.

"Ahhhrgg…haah…ah…"

Hatori lurched back.

"He's delirious," came Kiro's voice.

"Haaah…hah…_haaaa…"_

"I shouldn't – "

"_Haa…to…ri…"_

The doctor's mouth dropped open.

"_Why….Hari…why…"_

That was enough. Hatori turned and fled Akito's stuffy room, again, his medical coat flying white behind him. He ignored Kiro's shout.

Akito coughed, retched, rolled over and vomited in the basin beside his bed.

_Why Hatori_

_did you come_

---

The phone rang obnoxiously loud in Shigure's study. The Dog stopped his enthusiastic doodling of flowers and animals on his manuscript (semi-sorta completed) and snatched it, glad for the distraction, for any distraction. He thought it was Mii-chan, checking to see if he was working his tail off.

"Konichiwaaa!" he sang. "Yes yes, I am working, believe it or not, I was not doodling or gazing out the window or thinking of eating soba but incidentally –"

"Shigure," rasped the alien voice on the other end. "Shigure, I need to ask you a favour."

"Ehh?" Shigure frowned. The voice was familiar, it sounded ill but was not Akito's. "Ha-san?"

"Yes. I need…to tell you something."

The Dog let his breath out. Of course.

"You're in love with me, Ha-san. You hide it very well, but I had a hunch –"

"W-wha?" stuttered the voice on the line.

"- Aya thinks I'm wrong but that's just because he's in love with you but spring is in the air and the sap is rising is so is your –"

"_Shigure!" _Hatori yelled, "You perverted hentai I am not in love with you but I have a crisis and _I'm asking for help and will you listen to me!"_

"Oh no!" Shigure pouted, refusing to be drawn out of his good mood. "That's terrible, Hari! Tell me all about it. Whose heart did you break this time?" he teased.

Silence.

The Dog cradled the phone. "Ha'ri? Hellooo? I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I'm sorry –"

"It's Akito."

"…Ah."

"It's bad, Shigure."

Shigure sucked in his breath. "You mean…he's…"

"No. But this is just as bad." Hatori's voice was low and miserable.

"What is it?"

"I hurt him, Shigure."

The Dog dropped his pencil. "You…what?"

"I should have told you and Aya this sooner…it was three days ago….God and fuck I don't know what to do…"

The Dog sobered. When Hatori started swearing it was a bad sign. "Tell me what happened, Hari. As calmly as you can."

Hatori let his breath out. Shigure would be there for him after all. "He was shouting. He was angry with me. He tried to hit me, and I grabbed his wrist. I…"

"Go on."

"He was fighting back," the Dragon continued miserably, "He was trying to tear himself away…I was trying to hold him still and was squeezing him tightly…too tightly…Shigure…I broke his wrist."

"And then what?" Shigure coaxed, but he could imagine too well the 'what'.

"I'm not his doctor anymore. He refuses to even look at me, Shigure. I had to call in another doctor…a friend of mine…Shigure, I don't…"

"Everything's going to be ok, Ha-san." Shigure winced at this pathetic lie.

"Can I…come stay at your place for awhile?" Hatori tried not to sound like a cringing child.

"Well of course, Ha-san!" came the gleeful voice from the receiver, "If you want I'll just turf Kyo-kun out of his room and you can stay there! He can sleep on the roof, he's always there anyway. Cats like high places."

"No, you don't have to do that –"

"No friend of mine will sleep on the floor and you're certainly not bunking in my study, it's too messy," Shigure declared. "Unless…well, you can sleep with _me, _Ha-san!"

Hatori ignored his drawling, gleeful tone. "No."

"Ha-san is so mean. So I'll pick you up today?" Shigure gabbled as if Hatori's life hadn't been completely and utterly destroyed, "It's about 1:00 now and if you get ready and pack some things and I'll be there at 2:00! Yes?"

"I…" Hatori was left floundering in Shigure's enthusiastic wake, "I…I suppose…"

"Wonderful! Now…" Shigure paused and lowered his voice, "are you going to tell Akito?"

The doctor froze. _I should. He'd want to know. Will he agree? He doesn't… _He swallowed. "Akito doesn't want to see me."

"Well, have your doctor friend give him a message. If it's that bad, Ha-san, then Akito, ah, probably won't mind if you left for a few days. Since he…doesn't want to see you. You need a break, Hari, from the monotony of the Main House, and come to my house for some non-existent peace and quiet!"

"Uh…"

"Akito won't be calling you," the Dog stated reasonably, "He has another doctor." He then resorted to whining. "Oh pleeeaase Hari! We'll call Aya as well and you'll forget all about Akito!"

Hatori paused at this.

"It's 1:10, Hari. Start packing and relay your messages and so forth." Shigure cleared his throat. "Don't worry," he continued in a more serious tone, "Everything will work out, Hari. You'll see."

"Yes," came a relieved Dragon, "Thank you, Shigure."

"Of course!" They exchanged goodbyes and Hatori hung up.

He stared at the black receiver for a long time.

_I need this. I need to forget about _him.

He went looking for Kiro, and spoke to him quietly, trying to hide his guilt. You don't need me to be here? No. He would be fine. Go rest, Hari, it's what you need. If you're sure. Yes. If he asks, tell Akito where I am? Yes of course. He avoided Kiro's gaze.

Two o'clock came and went.

---

"I heard a car pull up this afternoon."

The kneeling, broad-shouldered figure didn't respond. Nothing was being asked of him.

"No one came to see me. No one's told me _anything." _

Silence.

"Tell me what you know, Minekura."

"The one called Shigure came here briefly," the Ox answered dutifully, wondering how much of Hatori he could leave out of this, "I didn't see him personally, I saw him from a distance."

Akito narrowed his eyes. Shadows fled from the corners and gathered in his pupils.

"What did that mutt want? He only comes here to see me…and…" Akito sucked his breath in, "And the Dragon."

"Yes," Kiro replied carefully, "Shigure came to visit H- the Dragon."

Akito slowly shifted and swung his legs off the bed. Kiro was about to speak but Akito waved him off. The clan-head tottered forward few steps, leaning on the bed. His body remained sun-drugged and heavy. He semi-collapsed on his knees in front of the doctor and stared into his eyes.

"There's so much you're not telling me, Minekura. Oxen such as yourself were never very good at lying." Akito shook his head. "Patient, slow, and stupid. Worthless."

Kiro watched Akito sway back and forth.

"I will find out, you know," the boy continued conversationally, "I have my informants everywhere. I sit in the centre of my Zodiac web and they bring tidbits to me. So tell me everything, Minekura, and save yourself a lot of _pain._

"I know you're not a Sohma. Why **he** even thought to bring you here is beyond me. You're too much of a risk. You're dispensable, Minekura. One day I shall rinse my hands of you."

Mellow, tawny eyes stared patiently back. Akito felt his rage rise.

"_Look _at you. You're not afraid: you owe me nothing. Your life doesn't depend on mine, you care for me because it's your job. How much are we paying you?"

"I am not being paid to care for you, Akito-sama."

"So you're doing it out of _charity?" _Akito sneered.

"Yes. And for the Dragon."

The god was silent for a while. He could feel anger brimming in his every pore and he loved it.

"As long as you're in the Main House, you're going to be treated like a Sohma. Which means you **will **answer my questions truthfully, Minekura. Now…" Akito purred, "when Shigure left, doctor, _was he alone?"_

Kiro shook his head. _'If he asks, will you tell Akito where I am?'_

"Then _who _was _with _him?"

He couldn't avoid it any longer. "Hari was."

Three charged seconds.

"Why?" the god said silkily.

"I don't know."

"Was he packed? Did he bring belongings with him?"

"Yes."

Akito was twitching, eyes glazed. "You left me…" he moaned to no one, "you left me…**you left me to suffer, you shunned my authority and you left me, Hatori!"**

Kiro suddenly felt five bloodless fingers in his neck.

"_And you let him leave."_

"……"

"Will you betray me as well!" Akito roared, "Are you so much like Hatori! Do you like him! _Well this is what he received when he first betrayed me!"_

Ceramic shards cascaded around them, blood spattered to the carpet.

"Now," Akito hissed, drunk on power, "this is what is going to happen. You tell no one what I just did. Especially not **him. **You don't want that on your conscience, do you? And _guess what." _The god yanked Kiro's chin up.

"You are now mine, Kiro Minekura. I've made my mark. And every day that passes, I'm going to mark you a little more, little by little, until **he **returns. That's your punishment for conspiring with him. Your punishment for involving yourself with the Sohmas."

He released Kiro. "Remember where your loyalties lie. Get up. Clean yourself up. Then give me some medication for my lungs. _Do it." _

The doctor did what he was told.

Later, he privately wondered how a sick boy could move so fast. Akito had _blurred. _

Perhaps the old legends were not lying. The Zodiac gods kept in harness strange, old powers.

_I'm so sorry, Ha'ri. I couldn't protect you._

* * *

A/N: Next chapter will be Ha-san at Shii-chan's house, Akito experiencing Ha-san withdrawal, and Ha-san pining for Aki-san! And tension of all sorts! Review! 


	4. So Beautiful

I know some people might thinking 'where the hell is the shounen-ai? I came here for some Ha-sanxAki-san action!' Well, all good things to those who wait. I am drawing this out, to prolong that sweetness when it comes (and it will come!). I'm starting university as of right now and probably won't be able to update as much as I want. But I'm having so much fun writing this…it gives me a nice tingly feeling…that I'll most likely update frequently!

* * *

"_What the hell is Hatori doing here?"_

Shigure shoved his friend inside, who had been standing rigid in the doorway. "Inside, Ha-san! Oh, and don't be so rude, Kyo-kun. Shall I make us tea?"

Hatori let himself be pushed to the table. "Yes. Please." He pinched the bridge of his nose: he wasn't feeling very well.

"Dammit, Shigure! Why won't you answer my question?" Kyo glanced at Hatori, saw his pale, tired expression. "And what the hell's wrong with you?"

"All good things to those who wait, Kyon-Kyon." Shigure swanned back into the room. "Water's boiling!"

"Whatever. And don't call me Kyon-Kyon." The Cat stomped out of the room.

Both adults relaxed. Or at least Shigure did.

"Come now, Ha-san. I don't like to see my little seahorse so upset!" He giggled for a minute at the mental image. "I mean…cheer up. Akito's not here, you know."

"When he finds out I've left," Hatori muttered, running agitated fingers over the table's shiny surface, "I…I don't want to think…I don't know what to do…" He slid his hands over his face.

"Something like this needs to be handled with tact and care," Shigure declared. "You're in a very delicate situation. Akito probably hates you now, he's hurt that you hurt him and he feels betrayed. Not that I know what he thinks," he added delicately, over Hatori's small moan. "But…based on what you told me, Ha-san…Akito's more likely _afraid _of you."

"What?" Hatori peeked at the Dog. Shigure leant back.

"Well, the adults of the Juunishi….and even healthy young 'uns like Kyo and Yuki…we're all _stronger _then Akito, you know. Physically. He's sick, weak. If we wanted too, we could hurt him pretty badly and he wouldn't be able to stop us."

Hatori stared.

"I'm just saying. But we daren't. We _couldn't…_that's the curse. Akito is our God. We can't touch him…until you did, Ha-san. In a way, you _defied _the curse. You went against him, you hurt him."

"_I didn't mean to -"_

"I know." Shigure raised a hand. "You're his doctor. You would never intentionally hurt him. It's probably against your Hippocratic Oath." He giggled until Hatori glared at him. "I mean, the balance of power has been shifted. He's afraid now: that you might do it again, that the other Juunishi might rise against him. He's hurt and confused, and panicked. See?"

The Dragon gazed at the smiling face opposite, and wondered what kind of submerged mind could so easily imagine the feelings and wants of crazed boy-god. He wondered where the lolloping dog part of Shigure ended and the grinning hyena began.

"If you're so certain, Shigure, why don't you write a book on the psychology of a bitter, twisted adolescent with a God-complex instead of trashy romance novels?"

"Obviously I wouldn't make as much money, Hari!" Shigure beamed. "Anyway, no one can know what Akito's _really _thinking."

Hatori didn't say anything. Shigure watched his face carefully, then played with the sleeve of his yukata.

"Why don't you tell me what's really wrong, Ha-san?"

"What?" The doctor looked up suspiciously. "I have!"

"Oh hurting Akito was a large part of it, I'm sure. But are you going to tell me he didn't deserve it?" Hatori inhaled sharply. "Well, didn't he?"

"He suffers enough. I should know. I've witnessed it first-hand for a long time."

"No doubt, Ha-san. But back to my point: I can tell something else is wrong. Something that may or may not have to do with our young God. Something – oh, the tea!" Shigure leapt up and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Hatori to sweat and wonder.

_I keep forgetting. I have to be careful around Shigure. He's my friend, but he's also Akito's watchdog. He's closer to Akito then any of the other Juunishi._

The subject of his thoughts came back in and set two steaming cups down. "What was I saying? Oh yes! Hari, something's eating away at you. You're normally so stoic but I can see it now: a tightness around your mouth. Oho, now you look guil-ty!"

"Stop it," Hatori managed. "Stop it, Shigure."

"I'm only trying to help. I thought you wanted me to help."

Hatori took the sweltering china cup, letting the heat burn his palms, felt his own burning face. If he told Shigure his feelings about Akito, the Dog would have a field day. His palms stung.

"Are you going to drink that, Ha-san, or just stare at it?"

He took a sip: camomile.

Shigure opted for another tactic. "So, is Akito really sick? You know I worry about him too, Hari. How has he been since…the incident?"

"He…" the Dragon exhaled, "Today he spent too long outside in the sun. He has heat-sickness…"

"Oh dear. Tell me what happened." Shigure's brown eyes never left Hatori's face.

"Well, you know he likes to be in the garden. He was by the pond for a while. Lying down on the grass. I'll be surprised if he won't get sunburn, he was pretty exposed, he had his yukata off because of the heat. He lay there for twenty minutes." Hatori blew on his tea. "Then he woke and I recognised the first signs: disorientation, limited mobility, dizziness. I had to call for Kiro: my friend who's also a doctor, he's taking care of Akito now…and…" He stared at Shigure, who wore an odd smile, one hand under his chin.

"So you **saw **all of this, Hari. Yes?"

"Yes…"

"In other words," Shigure licked his lips, "you were _watching _Akito."

Too late. Hatori reeled. "I…I was just worried…"

"Yes, I know." Shigure stirred his tea with obnoxious glee. "I could tell. You gave me specific details: how long he was out there, his symptoms, how exposed he was…very medical. Very methodical. I praise your skills of observation. All that remains is **why."**

"I told you I was worried." The doctor felt a hot lump where the tea sat in his stomach.

"Of course. Very concerned: you're a doctor. But I could think of many reasons why you would be watching him, Ha-san."

_Yes, _the Dragon thought, _I bet you could._

"Guilt, obviously, would be number one. Now that you're no longer at his side, you still feel the need to carry out the roleplay of doctor and patient, ne? Maybe? And you were worried, as you said. Maybe – what's the replacement doctor's name? Kiro? – you were jealous you were supplanted. And so you watched Akito-san, still protective of what you thought was _yours. _And speaking of jealousy…"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Thankfully, I do. Jealousy is linked to a common emotion we all experience at some time, Hari. I know you have."

Hatori looked away. He wanted Shigure to shut up shut up shut up and not say what he dared not think of.

"The answer is…love, Ha-san!" Shigure put both hands under his chin, batting his lashes and making kissy sounds. "Looove, makes the world go 'roooound….looove…"

"_It's not like that!"_

He slammed a fist down on the tabletop. The teacups shuddered. Shigure looked at Hatori's clenched fist.

"Oh careful, Hari, I don't want you to start breaking my house too."

And to the Dog's utter surprise, the doctor broke down.

Hatori tried to stop the haemorrhage of tears choking his eyes, but couldn't. All the week's stresses and mistakes that he had tried to bottle inside him spilled out. He put his sobbing head on the table.

"_I don't…I can't…be without him...I don't know w-why I'm like this…he hates me…I don't…"_

Gentle hands held his shoulders. "I'm not blaming you, Hari."

"But it's m-my FAULT…"

"It isn't."

Shigure gave him a gentle hug. "Sorry if I seemed like an SS interrogator, Ha-san. You know me: I like to get at the truth. I'm not judging you."

Hatori shook his head. _It doesn't matter because it's over. It's all over. For me._

"I'm so tired…" he whispered.

"Shhhh." Shigure gently coaxed him upright. "Tell you what: you can sleep in my room with me tonight, and I promise I won't make any moves. Not when you're like this, anyway." He giggled, and saw a wan smile tug at the Dragon's mouth.

"That's it, Hari, smile! It's never as bad as you think. You should have a nap. I'll wake you for dinner if you want, you must never miss a chance to sample Tohru-kun's delicious cooking! Besides me, it's the most delectable thing in this house…"

Hatori let the Dog's idle chatter and firm touch guide him past blurry rooms and shifting stairs. He didn't even object as Shigure removed his shirt and wrapped him in blankets, and lay there in a cosy cocoon of warmth. At last, his mind was Akito-less.

He stared at a crack in the ceiling until its edges became uncertain, and he let its rift yawn and swallow him utterly.

---

_Alone. _

_This time, I'm really alone. Hatori isn't here. _

_Normally I can feel his presence somewhere in the House, even faintly. I can sense all of my Zodiac. When I try and concentrate on Hatori: nothing. No bluegreen eyes watching me, concealed. No small invisible indications he has been here: no clean, clinical smell that his coats smell of, no lingering trace of cigarette smoke. No clacking footsteps in the corridors. _

_My Dragon has gone. _

_But I know he feels me. At all times, he and the other Juunishi feel that faint tug, that miniscule longing to be with their God. To be with the center of their universe. That is the Zodiac bond, when the cursed come together. Together, we're not afraid. _

_I am afraid._

_Our bond holds us. Just as they secretly, horribly desire to be with me, I want to be with them. I hate them, but I need them. I want all the Juunishi to be gathered around me. I give them the life they feed off of._

_I am afraid…because the bond I had with my Dragon is damaged._

_Still I have some comfort: the more he tries to pull away, the tighter our connection stretches. But I fear now it is so taut it's beginning to fray. _

_I am waiting for the day it will snap._

_In short, I am afraid._

Akito growled and bit at his pillowcase. He was still lying in bed. He felt smothered. Heat-sickness was still with him, even after Kiro had put him into bed and opened the windows to send cool air over his feverish body. He couldn't get up without falling over and his head exploding in little white dots.

Nausea and dizziness were his bedmates. The god had trouble keeping liquids down so Kiro had quietly suggested he set up an IV to regulate his fluids. Akito had responded 'No, not unless you want to be blind in both eyes.' 'Then,' the unruffled doctor had replied, 'I won't be able to care for you and you'll die of dehydration.' Akito had given in.

_Just keep me alive so I can live another hellish day._

He pummelled his pillow. He was bored and bedridden.

And when he was bored, he schemed.

_There's no reason I can't have Hatori running back to me. He has to obey me, after all. _Akito smiled humourlessly. He sat up slowly.

"Minekura!" he yelled, "Bring me the telephone. I want to make a call. Then stay in the room: I'll need you." This speech left him breathless and the god remained silent. He waited and watched while Kiro set up the telephone. _My trusty Ox. Heh._

"Stay here a minute. I'm going to call Shigure and see what exactly is going on." Akito eyed Kiro's face callously. "I like what you've done with that bandage, it suits you." He punched out the numbers.

After 4 rings, Tohru picked up. Akito let his face fall forward. _Of course, I had to get HER._

"Shigure," he growled, interrupting Tohru's bright hello. "I need to talk to him. Now."

"O-Oh, Akito-sama!" the girl stuttered. "I think Shigure-san is working on his manuscript –"

Akito clawed at his mattress in rage. "I don't care what he's doing, you idiot girl! Bring him here!"

"Y-yes!" Tohru went in quest of the Dog.

"Stupid little bitch," the boy muttered, breathing heavily. He started coughing. Shigure came on the line.

"Akito?"

"Yes…Shigure." He struggled to regain control of his breathing and injected as much malice as he could into his voice. "Shigure…it's become known to me that yesterday you took my Dragon from the Main House. You didn't see me, Shigure. Nor did Hatori. You both just left, without wondering about the consequences."

"I heard you were far too ill to receive visitors –"

"Don't you lie to me, Shigure." Akito let the words come in one poisonous breath. "I have a feeling. I have a feeling that everyone in your house, including Yuki, is in perfect health and there's no reason for Hatori to be there."

"He wanted to visit me."

"I thought I told you not to lie."

The Dog paused. He could not disobey the words of his Master.

"He wasn't feeling very well, Akito-san. Rather then be a burden to your replacement doctor who is taking care of you full-time, he thought he'd sweat it out here instead."

Akito paused. That did not sound impossible.

_But._

"Let me speak to him, Shigure."

"Eh?" The Dog sounded a little panicked. "He's sleeping right now, Akito-san…"

"Then _wake him up."_

"I…yes, Akito-san!" Shigure practically wailed. He went off, and Akito was left listening to a hissing line. He raised black eyes to Kiro. "When I'm done, I'm going to let him talk to you. Just for a couple of minutes. You assure him that everything here is fine. You don't want him to worry, do you?"

Ignoring the look on the doctor's face, Akito drew the receiver back as a very pale, very fragile voice whispered, "Akito?"

The god closed his eyes. "Hai, Hatori. I haven't heard your voice for a while."

"What…is it?"

_He sounds ill. Perhaps…I shouldn't..._

"I…" Akito found himself momentarily speechless. Then he cleared this throat. "Hatori…you can't run from me forever."

There was a gasp from the line.

"I was very disappointed when I found out you left without consulting me." Akito felt his malice creep back. "I heard you're not feeling well. Stay at Shigure's house for as long as you need to recuperate. But, Hatori, I'm warning you: every day you're gone, _the more someone else will suffer because of it," _he hissed. "Be aware of that, Hatori. And now…I will let you speak to your friend. I'm sure you two have a lot to say."

He handed the receiver to Kiro, giving him a look as he did so. It said, _Little by little. Remember that._

Hatori felt a small comfort hearing his friend's familiar, lowing voice. "Hari?"

"Hai." Hatori blinked. Kiro sounded odd.

"Are you all right, Hari?"

"Yes. Yes. It's just a cold, I think. I'm sorry for doing this, Ki-san."

"I told you I'd take care of it. Are you having fun at Shigure's house?"

The Dragon frowned. Kiro was sounding more and more strained.

"Yes. It's so loud it's impossible to be bored. How…" he paused, "is Akito doing?"

"Still heat-sickness, I'm afraid. And possible bronchitis. I've ordered some new medication."

There was a silence. It screamed of things forbidden to speak of.

"How…" Hatori said slowly, "are _you, _Kiro?"

"Me?" There was a slightly panicked pause. "Fine. Fine, Hari."

"Good."

"Hatori –" Kiro said suddenly, and the Dragon heard Akito say something in the background. Kiro started again. He sounded defeated. "Ha-san. Listen to me, ok?"

"Sure, Ki-san."

"I want…I want you to get better. Don't come back because you think you have to – or because others try and make you. Your health is more important, Hatori. I've known you for a long time, and you're too selfless for your own good. So…come back only when you want to, all right?"

The Dragon gripped the receiver. "I don't understand. Why are you saying this? _What's going on there, Kiro? _Is it Akito? Is he - "

"_Please,"_ Kiro said desperately, "just do it, ok? And don't return because you think you have to…whatever you may hear…"

"What…?"

Muffled sounds. Then Hatori heard Akito's hoarse voice. "Time's up, Hatori. I may call you again later, then again I may not. I'm very ill, you know, and I can't waste my breath on people who've deserted me. Goodbye." _Click._

Hatori realised he was shaking.

_Every day you're gone, the more someone else will suffer because of it._

He knew what Akito meant. But it seemed too monstrous, and he didn't want to think about it.

---

Akito lay back on the bed, angry with himself. _I let him slip away. Why? What's he worth to me?_

But then Hatori had sounded ill. Or incredibly exhausted, or both. Even if the god had summoned his Dragon back, it wouldn't have been much fun with him moping and being miserable. Stoic Hatori was what Akito was used to.

_Anyway, I can't forgive him for what he's done. _He cradled his wrist.

_Unless…you beg me, Hatori. Get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness, for repentance from your God. _

_And I will make you feel sorry, Hatori. I'm sure you're eaten up with guilt for hurting me but that's not enough. I want you to cry tears of blood, bile, sweat. Enough to pay for the sacrilege thou hast committed. _

Akito slid his lightless gaze over to Kiro, who was a motionless silhouette by the window. Awaiting orders.

_I'm doing some pretty terrible things to innocent people, Hatori. But their fierce loyalty to you is such that I might think you're worth it. Unlike Kana, this one is strong. Like a bull. He doesn't crack under pain. I'm eager to experiment some more._

_I want to see your expression when you see his face again. I want to eat it up. _

Akito was pleased with his thoughts. There was so much work to be done.

---

It was 5:00.

This meant 'dinnertime' at Shi-chan's house, because dinner was served on the basis of Kyo, Yuki, or Shigure opening the fridge and saying 'Man, I'm hungry. Do we have any noodles?' and this was Tohru's cue to jump up and start bustling around making meals for everyone.

This is what Hatori observed. Apparently the Sohma men here never made anything for themselves. Hatori also observed that none of them were capable of eating without arguing. It was some sort of psychological reflex.

"Oh Tohru-kun, this meal is delicious as always," Shigure sang. "You're going to make someone a very proud husband…I wish it was me!"

"Haah!" Kyo shouted, as Tohru started thank-you-ing, "You pervert Dog, she's too young to be your wife! And she's not a wife anyway!"

"I was merely praising Tohru-kun's domestic skills. Don't be so jealous, Kyo-kun, just because you can never think of any compliments to say to her…"

"Shut up!" The Cat crammed his mouth full of noodles to avoid answering any more questions. He glowered at the Dog. _Stupid Shigure._

"Honestly, do you always have to set that Cat off?" Yuki genteely popped some rice into his mouth.

"Hey, I didn't see you coming to her defence, you damn Rat –"

Tohru scooched closer to the quiet doctor. "I never got a chance to ask how you like your food, Hatori-san! Or what your favourite meal is! And if you're going to be staying here for a while, I'd like to know what I can make you…" She blushed.

Hatori smiled. "You really don't need to worry about that, Honda-san. Everything you make is delicious."

"You're too kind, Hatori-san!" Tohru glowed with pleasure. Yuki and Kyo scowled into their bowls.

Shigure elbowed them. "Jealous, are we, because Tohru-kun's all over Hatori-san, or is it because Hatori-san's all over Tohru-kun…heh heh heh…"

Three pairs of chopsticks flung egg at him. **"Shut up, Shigure."**

Kyo bent over his bowl, picking out leeks. "And what makes anyone think Hatori's staying here? Why the hell is he here anyway, no one's ill…except for Shigure, he's just ill in the head…"

"Tori-san isn't feeling very well," the Dog said delicately, ignoring Kyo's jibe, "and it was thought he should get over it here instead of the Main House, where Akito might catch it…"

"Wait. Akito sent Hatori _away?" _Yuki blinked.

Shigure coughed. "In a way."

"So who's taking care of Akito?"

"There's another doctor working there now."

"But this all doesn't make sense," Yuki continued. "Hatori **never **gets sick. He's the Dragon. Something must have happened for him to become that weak. And even if he was ill, why would Akito send him away? I don't think he would. What's going on, Shigure?"

Hatori was suddenly no longer hungry. _Akito was right about Yuki. The Rat is sharp, he has good instincts…_

"Yuki-kun, don't be so mistrustful. Anyway, Tori-san's going to be staying here while he recovers…do you want to continue staying in my room, Ha-san?" Shigure asked, all innocence. Hatori leaned back.

"Like anyone would willingly stay in your room, Shigure," Yuki muttered.

"Oh I don't know, mousie, I've had _a lot _of willing people in my bed…"

"_Don't call me mousie."_

Kyo sniggered. "It's too dangerous for Hatori to be in Shigure's room…"

"Oh, that reminds me…it was what I was planning to do all along…Kyo-kun, thank you for volunteering for you to give up your room for Hatori!"

Silence.

"_What?"_

"Yes, it is a good plan, isn't it?"

"I never volunteered to give up my room! Shigure!"

"Just until he's better, Kyo-kun. Don't make your sad little kitty face."

"Why, you son of a –" Kyo glanced at Hatori. The doctor was looking away. "Uh…"

"It's all right, Kyo," Hatori replied, deadpan. "I don't mind sleeping in a room with…Shigure."

_Dammit! Why does he have to put it that way? _"Well…uh…" Kyo was red. "I mean…where the hell am I going to sleep?"

"You can bunk with Yuki. Or me, Kyo-kun! Or even _Tohru-kun…_" Shigure drawled. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"_Like hell I would!" _The Cat racked his brains, trying to think which was worse, Shigure or Yuki. Of course he didn't want to sleep in a room with Tohru! That was something Shigure would do. "I-I'm going to camp out here, on the floor! Yeah!"

Tohru put both hands to her heart. "That's so touching, Kyo-kun! You're giving your room to a sick person and giving up your comfort as well…it's so, well, nice!"

"Yeah. Well. You don't have to get all mushy about it. Geez." Kyo picked at his sleeve. "It's only temporary." He shot her a little glance.

"Ah, young love." Shigure sighed.

Hatori rose and took his dishes into the kitchen as the argument struck up again. He paused in the doorway. "Thank you for the meal, Tohru."

"Oh, it was nothing!" Tohru glowed again, looking after the doctor's receding back.

Hatori washed his own dishes – he knew it would mean less work for Tohru – and put them away. He then washed down some aspirin, and slowly, heavily made his way upstairs to Kyo's room. In the doorway, he hesitated. Then the doctor went in, removed some clothes lying on the bed and lay down. There were old cracks in the ceiling.

The Cat's room was not as messy as he expected. Compared to Yuki or Shigure's room, it was pretty sparse. _It's the way of the martial artist, to not have too many distractions, _Hatori reflected. There was a pile of dirty clothes, a few books on the shelf, some kung-fu movies, and the sloppily-made bed. On one wall was a small martial arts poster. That was all.

There was a dull pounding in his temples. He closed his eyes and it lessened. In the darkness behind his eyelids a pale face emerged.

_What are you up to, Akito? _

_I don't understand…why you let me stay. There's probably a lot of reasons. And a lot of answers. Maybe I'm asking the wrong questions._

_Akito…_

Hatori felt wetness on his cheek. He couldn't forget. He couldn't forget the gloss of Akito's hair, the cold precision of his movements, those heartless, lightless eyes.

Footsteps pounded and Kyo burst into the room, looking wild-eyed, panting. He jerked as he saw Hatori on the bed.

"Wha…! Oh. Sorry." The Cat slid his eyes from side to side. "I forgot you were staying…" He scuffed one dirty sneaker on the floor, then saw the tears. Kyo felt his jaw drop. _Hatori…_**crying?**

"Uh, what, I mean, what's wrong?"

Hatori put a hand over his face. "Nothing. What did you want? I can leave for a while…" He sat up on the bed.

"No. Um. That's ok. I was just so freakin' annoyed with that damn Dog and Rat that I decided to come in here and just cool off. But I'll go somewhere else…" He glanced at the Dragon again. _Geez, he looks awful._

"I just came to get this." Kyo lugged a sleeping bag from his closet. Hatori watched the Cat hesitate, rubbing his bracelet against his wrist.

"Whatever it is…I'm sure it's not as bad as you think." Kyo looked away. "I mean…it's not like the end of everything, right?"

Hatori smiled at the man trying to speak through the boy. _I'm being selfish. He bears the curse of the Cat. His life is a dozen times worse then mine is…I'm almost the lucky one. And he's standing there, fidgeting, trying to comfort **me**…in his own gruff way. _

_Thank you._

_Thank you, Kyo-kun._

"Maybe you're right, Kyo. Things have just been so hopeless lately."

"You wanna hear hopeless? Listen to Shigure." Kyo blew some orange bangs away. "I swear, I'm gonna take him to the pound one day. Yeah. Well, whatever. See you, Hatori." He nodded, then left, closing the door behind him.

Hatori let himself fall back on the bed.

_But I still can't forget about you…Akito._

---

9:00

The grounds of the Sohma estate were silent. Akito stood at one his windows, looking out onto the black nightscape.

"He can't forget me, you know. Even before all of this happened…he can't forget me. I marked him. He fell in love with a girl – a Sohma. It didn't work. I made sure of that. It was her fault that he got hurt."

He turned and looked back into the room. "Just like it's his fault that the same injury happened to you."

Kiro didn't respond.

"Heh." Akito curled his lip. He turned back to night sky, wild with stars. His voice was soft.

"He feels me, all the time. My presence. So do all of the Zodiac. They _long _to be with me. Secretly, in their deepest hearts. Oh, they hate me, and they whine and snivel, but they wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. There is life…it streams from me to them, like an invisible umbilical cord. They just can't say it. They can't say to my face, _You're the reason I'm alive._

"It is my curse."

Akito coughed heavily. His yukata felt unbearably itchy and hot.

"I can't stand it…I can't stand how they live, how they run, play, and breathe around me…_leeching my life from me…I can't stand it!" _He snarled.

And sagged. Kiro stepped forward, looking anxious, but Akito shook his head.

"They're all…so beautiful," he whispered, all venom gone. "All of them. That is one of the gifts of the Zodiac. Because they're not genetically normal, they're graced with beauty. No human can compare. Yuki…my Yuki…glows like a prince. All my Juunishi…are so beautiful and precious…like jewels…_I love them and I hate them._

"They are beautiful so as to hide the beasts that lurk inside. But my Dragon…you know my Dragon…know his fine ivory skin and eyes like glacial lakes…so green and chilled. He's the most beautiful of them all. Like an Arctic snowscape, remote and frozen. I love him.

"Oh Kami, I love him."

He crumpled into Kiro's arms. The doctor felt his forehead: hot and damp. He carried the trembling god back to the bed, removed the hot yukata and slipped the slight body under the sheets. Kiro turned to go when a hand grabbed him.

"No…you can't leave me…"

"I'm just going to get you some medicine, Akito-sama."

"Make a servant get it. Don't you leave me…not…now…" Akito bent the trembling, dark blossom of his head. "D-don't…stay…"

The doctor was not unkind. He let the warm, drowsy boy snuggle up to him. Akito placed his head on Kiro's shoulder and looked into the tawny eyes. His own glittered fever-bright.

"I could tell…straight away…that you were an Ox. Your presence…so solid and warm. Even now," Akito murmured, struggling to keep his head upright, "even now…I can see horns coming from your head."

The god was delirious, Kiro thought. He summoned a servant, and had Akito swallow two little blue pills. He wondered of the bi-polar nature of this boy who trembled and muttered in his arms. _It's not me that you need._

Akito fell into a doze. When he awoke in the dark someone was holding him.

"Hatori?" he breathed.

"No," lowed a voice. "Kiro."

"Oh." Akito let his eyes drift shut again, surrendered his body to that comforting warmth.

_My Dragon…is the most beautiful of them all._

* * *

So kawaii! I love Aki-san…and Hatori… I even love Kiro. Obviously, because he's mine. I've done a little drawing of him and Ha-san together…it's so cute. Well I think so anyway. If only you guys could see! Oh well. Review…or no updates, grrr. 


	5. Little by Little

Warning: this chapter, especially at the end, is more dark and disturbing then the previous ones. I wrote it this way to show how sadistic Akito really is. There are hints of him having some strange powers here, which I think is perfectly conceivable. I think the Zodiac God is more then just a figurehead, and ruling over people that turn into animals, and giving life to them is certainly more esoteric then normal, don't ya think?

That said about the dark and disturbing stuff, any side remarks made about blood and bleeding will become clear by the end of the chapter.

* * *

Dr. Kiro Minekura lay awake in the small hours of the morning. 

The small sleeping form at his side trembled every now and then, coughing. If he strained his right eye, he could see a dark spill of hair on his shoulder: the boy-god. He couldn't see anything out of his left eye because of the bandage.

He wanted to get up and take some Tylenol, because the left side of his face was beginning to throb, his wound was seeping. But Akito had one hand clutching pathetically at his shirt, and Kiro really hadn't the heart to move him.

The doctor reflected on his greatest mistake: underestimating this seemingly powerless boy.

_Is this what it's like…Hari? _

_No wonder you're so cold. You had to steel yourself against him. _

Akito was psychotic. This Kiro had long realised. If he had one memory that would forever be burned into his cortex it would be Akito's expression as he lifted the flower vase. In that tiny sliver of time before he was struck, Kiro had seen real derangement in the god's black eyes. Something in there capered and gibbered.

Mood-swings that bordered on bi-polar, odd mental complexes (manipulation and superiority to name but two), hissing despair…Akito was a psychoanalyst's dream. One moment he was vicious and cruel, the next melting in Kiro's arms because he was so afraid, so lonely, so sick.

Kiro stared at Akito's face, illuminated by a splash of moonlight.

_Despite what you've done, I can't bring myself to hate you. Because it's not your fault…is it?_

_It is the curse._

He wondered what sort of circumstances Akito grew up in to become this way. It was too sad.

And he remembered Akito's sentence on him, and sadness more then fear wormed into his heart. He laid his head back.

_You can hurt my face, my innards, my spine…simply because you can. _

_Does hurting people…bring you relief…Akito?_

The doctor absently stroked the boy's head.

_If hurting me brings you a tiny bit of Paradise…then I guess I don't mind. If it rights all you think is wrong. _

He raised a hand to his bleeding head.

_Maybe I'm the crazy one._

---

Akito was awake.

He had been awake for an hour.

He could tell the warm Ox beside him was not asleep: his breathing wasn't that of the sleep-drugged. Akito kept his own breath deep and regular as he leaned his head against Kiro's shoulder, eyelids closed.

When the doctor had almost tenderly stroked him with his fingers, he had felt like sobbing.

That passed. Now, under the cover of night, he schemed. Of new and different ways of pain he would inflict on the well-mannered doctor beside him, who was not afraid of him.

_I will make him afraid of me._

Perhaps he could cage the bull in Yuki's special room. But Akito wanted to preserve that for his Rat and continued along another train of thought running along splintered tracks.

Perhaps the ironic and most delightful way was giving him disease. Hatori had been more or less immune to Akito's long line of parading illnesses because he took care of himself and was the Dragon besides. Kiro was normal, if healthy, and Akito had infections bouncing off him like so many swollen fleas. _That _would certainly sully the doctor's mood.

Akito fondled this idea for a few minutes before dismissing it as too unlikely. Kiro was, after all, strong as an ox. Even if he did catch something it would take too long for the symptoms to manifest for the god's pleasure.

He'd already done something quite horrible. It involved blood, and lots of it. He could tell the doctor was confused…

Abuse, he decided, was the best. And the doctor couldn't do anything about it: for all his strength Akito suspected he no heart to lay his hands on the younger man.

Unless…unless…

The cracking feeling of his wrist as it snapped tingled in his sensitive nerves. _No…he wouldn't…_

Akito mentally searched the Ox beside him. No, he wouldn't.

Another idea surfaced from his mind's murky depths.

He smiled inwardly.

He liked it. He liked it a lot. And the doctor, awake beside him suspected nothing! Akito's thoughts were so loud he thought Kiro would hear them pounding through his skull.

_As long as you live, Minekura, you will bear the mark of the curse. And I will do it. As the grand finale._

_All I need is a way to hold you still._

---

Hatori woke as Kyo's alarm went off at 8:00 am. He flailed, sat up, leaned automatically over for his medical supplies and fell out of the bed.

Then he remembered where he was, and dropped his head in shame. The Dragon struggled into some clothes and went downstairs. He wasn't hungry and decided make his way to the table to sit down and clear his head.

There was a screech as if, well, someone had trodden on a cat's tail.

"_Ow! I'm friggin' sleeping here, you moron! I –" _Kyo looked up into Hatori's face. "…Oh, you. Well, look where you're putting your big feet, ok?" The Cat curled back into his sleeping bag.

"I'm sorry, Kyo." Hatori side-stepped him and sat. "I forgot I'd taken your bedroom. If you want, you can have it back."

"Nah," came Kyo's muffled voice. "I'm more or less comfy. When I was at Shishou's dojo, I just slept on a rice mat. Training, you know? So this feels like the freaking Four Seasons compared to that."

"Is anyone else up?"

"Nope. Tohru should be here soon though. You know how she is. That Dog gets up in the middle of the afternoon and Prince Yuki only wakes when it suits him."

"I see."

Hatori looked out the window. He could see the lawn, and the grass, and a few trees buffeted gently by the spring breeze, as if painting the blue sky above them. A look at his watch told him it was 8:15. Akito liked to get up right about now and lay on the porch, watching the sun appear above the trees. The Dragon could see him now, so clearly…propped on one elbow, carelessly rubbing one ankle against his calf…his bare, soft-soled boyfeet. One shoulder bare, as always, revealing the fragile curve of his spine, his lily nape visiblebelow his raven hair…

"You look sad." Kyo poked his head out of his sleeping bag. "Didn't I tell you it's not the end of the world? Huh? Geesh."

"Since when were you the optimist, Kyo?" Hatori put a hand under his chin and looked at the Cat amusedly.

Kyo went red. "I'm not! It's just…uh…well, I dunno! I'm tired. You stepped on me and woke me up. I'm going back to bed." He dove back under the sleeping bag.

The Dragon went back to looking out the window. He could feel an ache in his chest, a tugging he usually was too busy to notice.

_Can you feel me…Akito?_

_I'm starting to feel something. Something that was there all along; and I never really noticed it until now. My love for you only intensifies it._

He sucked in his breath.

_You must feel all of us, all the time. You must **want **all of us, all the time. But you'd never admit it._

_Just as we would never admit to wanting you. _Hatori gritted his teeth at the terrible swell of longing in his heart.

_I would. I do. I want to be near you, Akito…even if you hurt me and push me away, if I could hold you once in my arms I could die happy. _

His eyes misted in thought. After a while, he said, "Kyo?"

"Hmmpph?"

"Do you feel it, Kyo?"

"Huh?" The Cat surfaced, blinking drowsily.

"Just tell me," Hatori said quietly, "Just tell me that, sometimes, you long to be near him."

"Near who?" Kyo stared.

"_Him."_

"…Oh." A shadow passed over the boy's face. He glanced around, then leaned forward. "Yeah," he hissed, "Yeah, sometimes I do. It's weird. Sometimes I only feel it for a couple seconds. Sometimes, a couple minutes. But when I do, it's very faint." He looked uncomfortable, angry.

"I hate it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah." Kyo gritted his teeth. "I hate…I hate _wanting _to be with that evil little shit. It makes me wanna puke. But sometimes I feel, like…if I WAS there, even if I hated him, I would be…happy." He turned away.

"It's the Zodiac bond, Kyo. When we wish to be with our God."

"He's not a God, and no way is he my fucking God." Kyo flopped back down. "The Cat's an outcast."

"Hmm." Hatori was far away.

_I'm feeling your life…streaming from you to me. _

---

12:00

Shigure stopped lolling in his chair when the phone on his desk rang. Thinking it to be Aya, he snatched it up.

"You called me! I don't believe it, to be so honoured as to receive a call from the most wonderful person in the world, who –"

"Be quiet, Shigure," came a hoarse voice.

The Dog cringed. Oh no, oh no. "Akito-san! I'm sorry, I was expecting –"

"I don't care who you were expecting, Shigure. I want you over here. Now."

"Uh…" Shigure fiddled nervously with a pen. "Ok." He paused.

"Don't worry," Akito said softly, "I'm not asking you to bring Hatori with you. It's _you_ I want to see, Shigure. Live and in the flesh. We need to have a little _talk."_

"Yes, Akito-san."

"Then why are you still there?" _Click._

The Dog stared out the window for a while. He went into his room and cleaned himself up a little, making sure his hair was slicked back. Flattery might calm Akito. He was easing his way through the kitchen when Hatori's voice spoke up.

"Where are you going, Shigure?"

"Me?" Shigure turned, beaming. "Out for a little drive, Ha-san! To help my creative processes! And I might pick up some groceries, too."

Hatori put down the medical journal he was reading. "You're lying."

"Ehh? How can you say that! When we've been friends for so long, Ha-san –

"You look suspiciously well-groomed to be going for a drive."

"I'm vain. We know that." He paused. "I'm just…going to the Main House."

The Dragon's head snapped up. "Whose decision was that?"

"Oh, Hari…"

"What are you going to do?" Hatori stood in front of his friend. His voice was quiet and panicky. "What are you going to tell him, Shigure?"

The Dog stared back. "Your secrets are safe with me, Ha-san." He squeezed past Hatori and bounded out the door. "I've got to go – you know I can't keep him waiting!"

Hatori leaned on the doorframe as the headlights disappeared. He realised he felt dizzy. There was a slight tugging feeling where his heart was, and he raised a shaking hand to his chest.

_The bond…_

He closed his eyes.

_The insane hidden tumour of passion that is buried in my blood…_

_That longing…_

_To be with my God._

He slumped.

_I can't fight it much longer._

---

Shigure knelt in the darkness.

Akito was on his bed, back to him. He appeared to be asleep but the Dog knew better. His God would keep him waiting as long as he wanted.

As much as Shigure didn't like to admit it, a small part of him was relieved to be in the presence of his lord. The hidden connection of the Zodiac flared between them. He lowered his head, pathetically grateful.

_Every Dog needs his Master. If he tells me to fetch something, I will do it. _

Akito stirred. He turned over and lay down on his front, arms supporting his chin. He faced Shigure.

The Dog saw bruises on his knuckles.

Akito's voice shocked him out of his palsied state. "How is my Dragon, Shigure?"

Shigure's eyes flickered. "He's still ill, Akito-san. Very tired and pale. He doesn't seem…to be improving…but," he continued as the god's eyes darkened, "he is better then when he first arrived."

"I see." Akito shifted his injured wrist into a more comfortable position. Shigure couldn't take his eyes off the bound limb.

_Oh Hatori…_

"How long would you expect him to remain at your house, Shigure?"

"I…" The Dog paused. "I'm not a doctor, Akito-san. But perhaps…a week."

To his surprise, a smile dawned on those cracked lips. Shigure tried to shrink inside his yukata. _When he smiles, it can mean nothing good._

"That's good," Akito said softly. "That's…very good."

"Yes."

Akito extended a lazy finger. "Come here, Shigure."

He did so, kneeling at the side of the bed. The god placed a cool palm against Shigure's cheek, moving it upward to stroke his hair.

"My faithful Dog…yes. You would tell me everything I asked of you, wouldn't you." That boyish hand scratched Shigure as child would a pet. Shigure felt like rolling over on his back. That touch…so soothing…so _nice…_

"Yes…Akito-san." Shigure laid his head on the bed and Akito stroked it.

"You know what happened to my wrist, don't you. I expect Hatori told you."

"Ye-es…" He was a doggy puddle under his Master's soothing touch.

"I haven't punished Hatori for what he did to me. I haven't touched him. Do you know why?"

"No." Something wormed its way under Shigure's blissful canine glow and tried to tell him something. He tried to mentally scratch it as he would a flea.

"Why do you think that is, Shigure?"

"Uhh…"

"Because," came Akito's floating tones, "if you want to hurt some _really _badly, it's better to take it out on those that are closest to them. There is no pain like seeing a dear friend wounded because of _you."_

Shigure didn't hear this. The dog in him was panting, lolling, beating its leg against the floor.

"I'd like to show you something, Shigure."

The god sat up. He took Shigure by the chin and lifted it.

"Heed this as a warning, Shigure. A sublime and wonderful warning. You haven't met my replacement doctor, have you? Hatori's friend?"

The Dog shook his head. He almost whined as Akito removed his hand.

"Come here, Minekura. Come and show my loyal Dog what happens when people go against my will…"

Shigure blinked. Where there were shifting shadows there was a man, in the corner of the room. It was too dark to see him clearly. The man came and stood by the bed. There was a flare as light sputtered, then threw him into sudden, solid form.

The Dog jerked back.

"Yes." His Master's voice slithered out from dancing shadows. "Uncanny coincidence, isn't it? Can you imagine what Hatori will feel when he sees this?"

_But there's more, _Shigure thought in horror, _there's more then that bandaged, damaged eye…Oh Kami…those bruises on his neck, they look like finger-marks, and his right cheek…it looks like the skin has been scraped away…bruises…and…_ (he felt his breath stop)…_that eye wound…is…still…bleeding…_

But what scared the Dog the most was not those horrible injuries but the placid, eerily empty look in that tawny right eye. As if the person behind it had locked himself away in a corner of his mind where pain could not breach.

Akito tugged on Kiro's sleeve and the Ox knelt. He cradled Kiro's head in one hand, purring.

"My experiment. My best one so far. Don't you think so, Shigure?"

Shigure couldn't speak.

"I'm not done, of course. He's an outsider…not a Sohma…not even Japanese, by the looks of it. He deserves to be punished."

Kiro didn't look at Shigure.

"But," Akito went on, "better him then _Tohru, _eh? I was merciful with her, don't you think? She fits in with my plans so neatly…and so does he."

"Akito-san…" Shigure whispered.

"Every day Hatori is gone, I will _experiment _a little more. Little. By. Little. And Shigure…you're not to tell him of this. If you do…" He let the threat hang.

"Yes, Akito-san," the Dog croaked.

"Good."

Akito sat back. "Minekura, escort Shigure out. Then when you come back, change my bandage…it's coming loose."

Shigure and the doctor walked to the Main House entrance. The Dog felt like he was walking alongside a ghost.

When he reached out for the large entrance gates, a hand grabbed him. Shigure found himself looking into a tawny eye.

"Please," the doctor said. Shigure's eyes widened at the deep, lowing sounds issuing from the man. Kiro continued, "Do what Akito says and don't tell Hatori about this. He can't come back…until he's ready."

"What are you saying?" Shigure stared. "I knew Akito was violent… but _look at you…" _He tried not to look at the horrible red stain blotching through the bandage.

"There are worse pains. Believe me."

The Dog barked a laugh, a little hysterically. "You like being treated this way?"

"Of course not. I'm enduring this for Hatori…until he and Akito both admit it."

"It?" Shigure's ears pricked. "You _know…_you _know, _don't you…oh Kami…"

"Yes. All we have to do is wait."

"Why?" Shigure fumbled for a cigarette. "Why? I mean, why are you doing this?"

"I have my reasons." Kiro touched his face.

"You are…" Shigure lit up. "Either disturbed or stupidly loyal. You're not an Ox, by any chance?"

"Yes. I am."

"Hm. You must really love Ha-san." The Dog scuffed a foot. "That's good. He needs love right now. But not the kind of love only friends can provide."

"I know."

They watched leaves skip across the path.

"When Ha-san realises…"

"I'll talk to him. When the time comes."

_If there's anything left of you. _Shigure sighed.

"I'm sorry you got mixed up in Sohma business. We bring our curse to people around us." Kiro said nothing in response, and the Dog looked at him out of the corner of his eye. He waited.

The doctor looked at him, and Shigure saw he was smiling.

"I don't regret meeting Ha-san."

With that, he turned and walked away.

---

Hatori put down the newspaper he was pretending to read when he heard Shigure come through the door. The Dragon had been a bundle of nerves ever since his friend had left.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Shigure looked at him steadily.

"What did Akito want?"

"He was just checking up on things. Really, Ha-san, you worry too much." Shigure tried to sidle off but Hatori's voice stopped him. "Shigure."

The Dog looked round. Something flickered across his face.

"Ha-san…I wouldn't lie to you."

"Tell me something," Hatori said. "Did you happen to meet Akito's other doctor? My friend, Kiro? Did you meet him?"

"I did. Strong-looking man, sounds like a bull?"

"Yes." Hatori kept his bluegreen stare on Shigure's face.

"He was nice. What about him? I really need to go back to work, Ha-san."

"What's going on at the Main House, Shigure?"

"Oh, Akito's just being grumpy." Shigure avoided Hatori's eyes. "Though…for your sake, Ha-san…I hope you get better _really soon." _He fled to the study before Hatori could respond.

---

"What took you so long?"

Kiro set a softly steaming bowl of hot, soapy water onto Akito's bedside table. "I don't know what you mean, Akito-sama."

"Yes you do." Deep, dark eyes regarded the doctor. "It takes five minutes there and back to walk to the main gate from here. You took fifteen, Minekura."

"My eye was hurting me."

Akito ignored this. "Talking with my Dog? Gossiping? _Conspiring?"_

"Never, Akito-sama."

"To which?" The god plucked at his loose bandage. His wrist was throbbing coldly and it made him irritable. It made him remember Hatori.

"I was just saying goodbye to Shigure. I repeated your orders and told him not to tell anyone else about what's happening here."

"Hm." Akito studied the gentle, ruined face and could see that the Ox was not lying. "All right, I believe you. Now…" he held up his wrist, "take care of this abomination."

Kiro did so. The bandages were unwrapped, discarded, revealing pale, mottled flesh. The bruises once so deep in colour had faded to a series of ugly greens and yellows. The broken skin had not been washed and gave off a faint smell. Akito was disgusted.

_Oh my Dragon…I will find it very hard to forgive you._

The doctor carefully, tenderly cleaned the broken limb with the soapy water, wiping away any excess dirt and impurities the soft flesh had exuded. Some sort of fragrance had been added to the cleansing water, it smelled of water lilies.

Akito had tensed at the hot roughness of the cloth, but the doctor's fingers were deft and gentle and he experienced little discomfort while his wrist was cleaned. The bruises shone wetly and he looked away.

"Bind it up. Cover it. I don't want to look at it anymore."

Kiro bent his head obediently and Akito regarded his servile Ox. The raw scrape down his right cheek and bruised neck excited him in a way he couldn't understand. He looked at Kiro, giddy.

_My experiment. My wonderful piece of art. You look so beautiful damaged. Abuse suits you._

_I will make you even more beautiful. Day by day._

He casually flexed his bruised knuckles. And smirked.

"Put some salve on my left knuckles, Minekura. I'm afraid I found your hard, thick Ox head rather jarring against them."

Oh, that look. That white, caged look that flashed quick as a fish across the doctor's face. Akito wanted to preserve that look forever.

"Yes, Akito-sama."

The god studied him some more. He thought he could hear the doctor's thoughts buzzing, panicked beneath that tender scalp. _He must be feeling trapped._

_Trapped like the rest of us, in this cage._

A hot pain in his chest made his eye clench. Coughing erupted from him, his hands flying out of Kiro's paws to his mouth.

He couldn't stop. He couldn't breath. Something was crushing his lungs in an iron vice and he choked and heaved until bile drooled from his lips. Akito clawed at his chest. He saw white flutter out of the corner of his streaming eyes and he snatched blindly and clamped Kiro by the wrist, digging his fingers into that clinical coat.

_Don't leave. You can't leave me._

He heard Kiro say something about an oxygen mask and suddenly his fingers gripped air.

_NO!_

His ears were ringing, he was sure his head would explode. Pretty soon he would start hacking his guts up unless he got some air.

No guts: just the meagre contents of his stomach onto the sheets. Oh, and blood. And bile. And probably some other things, Akito wouldn't be surprised if he found a boot there. His weak body couldn't keep this up. He going to pass out or die, whatever came first…

Plastic, gummy jaws clamped onto his face. A strong hand caught him as he fell backward and made him sit up for easier breathing. Akito didn't want to sit up, he wanted lie back down sink into wonderful grey oblivion. He could dimly hear someone say _breathe…breathe, Akito…_

_breathe?_

He sucked in a lungful of oxygen, so much his head spun. He coughed it back up again.

_Breathe_

Too much blood and phlegm in his mouth. The mask was removed, and there was a sucking sound like a dentist's tool. Akito made a rattling noise.

Plastic lips kissing him now, sending more oxygen into his deflated lungs. He inhaled.

And breathed.

He was gently laid back down: pale, sweaty, helpless. The rising stink from the rejected mess on the sheets made him want to gag. He was too weak to gag. His ribs hurt.

Akito was floating now. Kiro had injected something into his arm _(relaxant?) _and he was somewhere in la-la land. He was on his back floating in a calm, mercurial, medicinal sea. The ache in lungs was washed away by the tides.

It was pleasant, in this little bay of tranquillity. Occasional sandbars of pain or discomfort appeared, but he was swept away by those healing waters.

There was a warm, benign presence close to him. He turned his head as something surfaced: he couldn't see it properly but he sensed a large, water-sleeked form, hooves, horns, a fish's tail.

"How are you feeling, Akito-sama?" it lowed.

"Uhhnnh." His head was full of the sea. He paddled toward its comforting voice, wanting to rest his head on that seal-shiny back. He reached toward it, it offered a dripping hoof. Akito pulled it to him, reaching over its bovine head and gripping those hard horns.

"Keep me afloat," he mumbled. "Whatever you do, don't let me sink."

"I won't," lowed the beast. It had tawny eyes, sad eyes.

Akito snuggled against its Capricorn-bulk.

_Don't let me sink…_

---

Midnight.

Kiro Minekura stands in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his bandaged face. His raw red cheek doesn't bother him. It's merely a graze. But now something is happening, something the doctor with all his medical knowledge doesn't understand, something that he's never seen before.

That wound, that vicious cut Akito gouged into his eye is bleeding.

It's been bleeding for two days.

It won't stop.

Kiro's tried everything: more pressure, special blood coagulants. Nothing works. It keeps on bleeding.

Not fast. It doesn't pour out, it _seeps, _slow and dark and thick, oozing ever so slowly from his eye socket. He's had to change his bandages as much as seven times a day. When he's panicked or exerts himself too much it comes thicker, faster, to beat of his heart.

The doctor is afraid. That boy has _done something _to his system. He doesn't know why, or how. But Akito has done it.

Kiro's starting to feel it: that tiny white-hot sliver in his chest. He's starting to fear Akito.

When he wakes, in the morning or at night, he finds his pillowcase dark and stinking, his face caked in blood. The servants are afraid of washing these blood-soaked linens. He lies, telling them it's some temporary infection from his wound.

Awake or asleep, he feels it seeping from him: hot, metallic tears that won't stop.

But the _strange thing _is that no matter how much his poor ruined eye weeps, he never suffers from blood loss. Kiro experiences no dizziness or mobility loss, except when he's tired. He's terrified: in the last 48 hours he's lost pints of blood, _but he is alive._

Someone is keeping him alive.

The same someone who is causing his wound to seep endlessly.

The doctor is helpless.

_It is the power of the Zodiac God._

He's becoming exhausted, and sickened: by waking up every morning to caked hair and filthy pillows, his round-the-clock caretaking of Akito, whose bronchial infection is growing more demanding by the day. But most of all he's tired of watching wine-thick water swirl in the sink when he washes his face, all those washcloths he's had to throw away, that virgin soap now tainted pink with his blood…

And the stink. The low, pungent, tangible meaty smell that emanates from his eye. Kiro is starting to reek of his own blood.

There is worse: like the dark triumph in Akito's eyes whenever he looks at him.

_No wonder they fear you, Akito. No wonder they worship you._

Watch him now, as he slowly unravels the clinging bandage from his head, unwinding and un-tucking in mesmerising circles. It falls away, and he lets it float from his shoulders to the white tiles.

He barely recognises himself.

Something warm slides down his cheek. Kiro swipes it, leaving a red smear on his knuckles.

The doctor gets to work, cleaning his eye. He's terrified of bacterial infection and wipes at the wound with special gauzes soaked in clear fluids. It stings horribly and he grips the countertop hard until he can stand it.

The other day he found a sliver of ceramic still buried in his eyelid. He had to breathe deeply and evenly to prevent himself from gibbering.

Kiro can't assess the full scale of the damage until he gets to a hospital. He thinks by the time he leaves the Sohma estate (_will he leave will he ever leave) _it may be too late. The doctor thinks it's too late already. His left eye looks like the eye of some monstrous sea creature from the deeps, almost all black from burst blood vessels, reddishly tinted, and utterly horrible.

Red beads lie glinting in the sink basin, on the spotless tiles. Little red eyes that wink up at him mercilessly.

_Oh Hari_

_the blood seeps it keeps on seeping it won't stop_

Another warm trickle. Tears, pink-tinted and salty, fall from him to join the blood below.

* * *

Oh Aki-san! You're being so mean! Oh wait, I made him do that. Whoops. Anyway now that my wireless internet works on my laptop, I can update from my house without logging onto university computers! Yay! Which means…updates! Now review! 


	6. Am I Forgiven?

Drifting Away is officially complete. All of it. It's been finished for about four days now. The reason I've been so long to update was because I had a lot of trouble writing the yaoi bit out. I'm still updating only one chapter at a time though, so to get chapter7 you must review chapter 6. I'm a real ball-buster.

**Warnings: AkitoxHatori yaoi/lemon/smut**. This chapter is rated M. Don't say I didn't warn you.

* * *

THREE DAYS LATER

Akito awoke in a world of shadows.

He didn't know where his head was: it seemed to be suspended several inches above his neck. One hand spasmed and he brought it to his throat, feeling the muscles and skin. This was the second severe asthma attack he'd had in a few days.

The world was grey, white, shifting dreamily through his drug-haze. There was a sound: breathy, gasping, loud inhalations and exhalations; as if the air itself was breathing in and out. Akito listened.

After a while he recognised it as his own breathing, and with much effort he plucked the oxygen mask from his face.

He passed out.

When he swam back into consciousness his head was slightly clearer. He passed a hand in front of his face and watched the receding after-images.

_Drugged?_

A smile pulled at his mouth.

_yes_ _drugged_

His cheeks were hurting. The god grinned crazily at the ceiling.

_You probably gave me drugs for my pain, Minekura. But more likely you knocked me out for a while so I wouldn't hurt you again. silly Ox_ _I will always find ways of hurting you_

_you're afraid of me_

_yes yes you are_

Akito started laughing. Not loudly, softly, he chuckled to himself, ignoring the little barbs spearing his aching lungs. He stopped to breathe. Then chuckled some more.

_How does it feel Minekura to bleed and bleed and bleeeeed?_

_I'm bleeding all the time. I'm bleeding for my family. _

_Now you're bleeding too. _

Akito laughed. Froth bubbled at his lips.

_You'll never die… you'll just bleeed_

The boy closed his eyes, smiling faintly. Now there was one more thing he needed to accomplish. It required great concentration and will. He settled himself more comfortably, before putting his right hand over his heart.

---

Hatori put down his medical journal. A strange foreboding had swept through him, as if some sixth inner sense were trying to warn him of something-

"TORI-SAN! HOW IS MY BELOVED TORI-SAN! SHII-SAN CALLED ME AND SAID THAT YOU NEEDED CHEERING UP, THAT TORI-SAN WAS MOPING AND BEING ALL GLOOMY-DOOMY AS USUAL BUT FEAR NOT FOR I THE WONDERFUL AYAME AM HERE TO SAVE YOU FROM YOUR DARK CLOUD!"

Two well-manicured hands placed themselves on Hatori's temples and cranked his head back. The Dragon stared into Aya's golden eyes, blinking. Aya planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Oh my! You're a little warm – because I showed up? Ah hahahaha!"

_My nightmare is complete. _Hatori took a sip of his tea, wondering where Shigure was so he could distract his exuberant friend. "Hello, Aya."

"Bonjour, bonjour…or as the Americans say, 'hello!'" Aya seated himself magnificently and folded his hands on the tabletop magnificently. Because he was magnificent. Hatori felt like discounted t-shirt obscenely placed next to some stunning Gucci creation.

"Where's Shigure?" He didn't have the energy to withstand Aya right now. He wanted to take a pill and go to bed.

"Never fear…he's just doing last-minute touches on his manuscript. So dedicated!" Aya sighed. Then abruptly he nailed Hatori to the table with two golden eyes.

"Why, Ha-san…you're looking ever so pale. In fact, you look _terrible…" _Aya paused. "Shii-san told me what happened."

The doctor suddenly found a soy sauce stain in the wood fascinating to scrutinise. He stared until he felt his eyes would bleed.

The Snake watched him, watched Hatori start blinking very rapidly before ducking his head and looking away. Aya tapped a nail on the table.

"I'm not blaming you, Ha-san. I'm sure Akito knows deep down that it was an accident. All I want to know is…what are you going to do?"

There was a dry pounding in Hatori's temples. He pressed his palms to either side of his head to amplify the sound, feeling it thump down his spinal cord.

"Ha-san?" Aya eyed the clenched shoulders. "Ok," he said hastily, "We'll talk about something else, Ha-san…" There was nothing that upset him more then seeing the Dragon upset. But Hatori didn't seem to have heard him. Aya looked at his white, glazed eyes and shifted uncomfortably.

Hatori inhaled sharply. He put a hand to his chest.

"What's wrong, Tori-san?" Aya was looking nervous.

"Nothing…I…"

At then he felt it: a great, cold vacuum that yanked his heart and entrails against his ribs, so much so that he pitched forward, banging his forehead on the table. Aya leapt up, was shouting something but Hatori couldn't hear him. Some magnetic force was pulling at his chest, some power was working itself inside him.

_The bond…the bond!_

He dragged himself up, feeling a shallow trickle from his forehead. He put a hand to it…his blood was tingling…

Shigure ran into the room, saw the Dragon and came to help but Hatori jerked as a current surged through him and batted his friend's hands away. Shigure yelped as static energy pricked his skin. "Hatori!"

"Don't touch me," the man hissed. "You…can't." His heart wrenched and he closed his eyes. He had to obey the summons. The fine hairs on his nape were standing on end.

Aya was babbling. "Shii-san, Shii-san, we should call an ambulance –"

"No." Hatori had never felt better in his life. He arced his back as the power of his God surged through him, hungry, demanding he return to the altar. An invisible hand was tugging, plucking at him – he knew exactly where he should go.

"Shigure, I'm going to borrow your car."

His two friends looked at the doctor's crackling eyes and nodded, too awed to speak. Hatori turned jerkily, like a puppet on strings, letting himself be pulled out the door to where Shigure's car lay parked, warm and inviting, under a tree.

---

Akito relaxed his body and let his dark head sink into the pillows. His Dragon was on his way, the god could almost feel his presence in the house. Images flitted through his mind: Hatori buckling his seatbelt with clumsy hands, leaving four feet of rubber as he peeled away, his wild, exultant bluegreen eyes.

He let his hand fall from his chest. He'd used his broken limb for the summons and that made the connection all the more powerful. By channelling his puissance he'd given his Juunishi strength, his life, it flowed from him to Hatori like electricity, bringing him back to where he belonged.

Yes, he wanted to bring back those expressionless eyes, those cool hands, that soft, cold voice.

The boy closed his eyes. His strength was just about spent; he was flushed from the exertion of summoning Hatori. Well, he would go to sleep, and perhaps wake when his Dragon returned. Or if he didn't, then he was happy to know that Hatori would be there, somewhere in the Main House when he awoke, his Dragon-scent filling its rooms once more.

Yes. He would be happier with Hatori here.

He would be even happier once he made the Dragon apologise.

Akito smiled, rolled onto one side, and fell asleep.

---

Hatori stamped on the break so hard he would've flown through the windshield if his seatbelt hadn't been fastened. He sat trembling for a moment, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. He'd been speeding, but strangely no policeman had seen him. The doctor struggled out of the seat belt and lunged out of the door.

He stood for a moment in the chill air of the Sohma grounds, catching his breath. Now that he was so sensitive to Akito's presence, he could feel the god's subtle energy spread out like spider silk, its silvery strands coating the entire estate. This was the centre of worship: the place of the Godhead, it was the Acropolis, it was St. Peter's. Hatori fell to his knees.

After a while he got up and slowly made his way to the Main House. He followed the silvery lines to where all lines must meet, at the web's centre, where his God lay. Hatori floated past rooms and servants…he couldn't see Kiro anywhere, but that hardly mattered…down a long hallway, with a certain door at the end…he neared it, his hand was on the knob, he met no resistance, and he was in the room.

A skeletal glow came from the slightly parted curtains, criss-crossing across the floor, the walls, and the bed where a huddled figure lay. Hatori breathed in. There was a faint, familiar, medicinal smell.

He approached the bed.

Loosely clothed in a grey yukata, Akito lay on his left side, his bony broken wrist stretched out. His little limbs formed a sloppy Z. A band of light fell across one exposed shoulder, making it gleam like porcelain. Slowly, mechanically, Hatori put one knee on the bed, leaning over.

Akito had stuffed a bunch of pillows under his sleek dark head, so his face was almost lost from view. Hatori reached out and brushed some bangs away, revealing his god's face. Akito murmured, pressed his lips together, exhaled. The bond between them was so close now the Dragon thought sparks should fly. If he touched Akito again they would both probably implode.

Slowly, hesitantly, Hatori reached over and took Akito's broken wrist in one hand. Akito didn't move; he kept on breathing slow, dusky breaths. Hatori ran his fingers over the little bones, assessing the damage, moving unconsciously into doctor mode. It was healing nicely. He silently blessed Kiro for his work and made a mental note to thank him.

_Where is Kiro? I thought he'd be near…_

Akito made a sound and turned over on his back. Hatori placed the wrist down, looking at his god's child-like face. All thoughts of his friend vanished as he drunk in those sooty lashes, half-parted pink lips, and Akito's expression of utter peace. He'd never seen Akito look like that before.

_Kiss him_

Inwardly moaning, the Dragon lowered his head inch by inch until he was a heartbeat away. He could feel warm breath on his lips…

He bent down.

And choked. Five white fingers were around his throat.

Akito's eyes were open and bared. He gently shoved Hatori away and struggled into a sitting position, yukata sliding down to his waist. He smiled, almost dreamily.

"Hatori…you're here…"

"Yes," the Dragon whispered. He didn't care about his neck. He didn't care about anything except Akito.

"How dare," Akito intoned – drooping forward, swaying, drooping back, so sleepy – "how dare you even touch me without…even…asking my forgiveness…"

"I'm sorry." Hatori didn't recognise this croaking voice. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry – forgive me, Akito-sama, for my disrespect…" He sucked in a breath. "I'll take whatever punishment you ordain."

"I'm glad…to hear you say that." Akito smiled sleepily. He took Hatori's shirt and tugged him forward.

"I'm glad…because I've already punished you, Hatori. In so many ways."

"What?" Hatori let this comment pass as a bit of Akito's madness.

"You'll hurt. I promise you." Akito stopped talking and sat there, eyes closed.

The Dragon raked his salacious eye-tongue over every inch of him. Akito was just sitting there: drowsy, drugged, warm…he wanted enfold that feverish body with all his limbs.

Akito drooped forward so suddenly Hatori thought he'd passed out. But no: the god raised his face heavenwards and sent a deep glance through every bone, every vein of Hatori's being.

"Bathe me, Hatori."

---

He did just that. Akito put his warm arms around Hatori's neck and let Hatori carry him to the bathroom, he was too weak to walk. Hatori walked slowly, enjoying the feeling of his god's face pressed hotly against his neck, those hot breaths. He had his own arms wrapped around Akito's slender body. They were lovers already.

Akito said nothing while the Dragon ran hot water from the tap; put cleansing bath oil in the water. He stayed where the doctor had placed him, sitting on the closed toilet seat, blinking from drowsiness and morphine.

Hatori shed Akito of his yukata, but Akito didn't climb in the just yet. He knelt nakedly by the side of the bath and dipped his finger in the water, frowning as he tested the temperature. The doctor shivered as the adolescent licked his finger, and nodded. Hatori helped him in.

Once in Akito lay back and closed his eyes as if too exhausted to move. Hatori gently scrubbed at his body with soothing, slow strokes. His god lay there, flushed and damp-browed. His skin gleamed from the oil.

Hatori was sweating as well, from the heat of the bath and his lovely, maddening god who was oblivious to the effect his milky shoulders, slim thighs and gleaming clavicle were having on his Dragon. His trousers were tight, and he shifted.

Akito picked black-sodden bangs away from his eyes. They immediately plastered to his cheeks. "Did you feel me call you…Hatori?"

The Dragon jerked. "Yes, Akito-san. Very strongly."

"It was because of this, you know." The god held up his broken wrist. "You marked me. The bone was receptive to my power and your presence and was able to find you easily. So, I called for you." He sat up.

Hatori began washing Akito's back. "Why did you call me back, Akito-san?" he said quietly. "You said you didn't want me near you again."

Akito grew silent for a minute. Hatori felt the lithe muscles stiffen. "Could you blame me, Hatori? Would you want someone who hurt you near you again? Someone who had been close to you for a long time, destroying that unspoken trust with a violence action? No, don't speak. I'm prepared to forgive you Hatori, little by little. It may take some time."

"Yes." Hatori had expected nothing less. He had to earn his trust back.

Like a trainer trying to soothe an impulsive animal, Hatori gently massaged the tension out of Akito's back. He let the washcloth slip from his slick fingers, letting them brush and flutter against Akito's spine. He kneaded the vertebrae, examining the bumps and ridges as if feeling some strange shell. The god sighed, his eyes becoming dark and milky.

"Hatori…"

Akito squirmed as the doctor's fingers moved up to massage his neck. Hatori sucked his breath in as his thumb and forefinger felt the glistening down on the boy's wet nape. He was glad the bath was between them, he had a raging hard-on.

"Do you like it, Akito-san?"

The boy focused on him. Hatori almost fell into the depthless eyes. "Yes…Hatori."

"Good." The doctor's voice was cotton. "I want to make you feel better…Akito-san."

_I want to make you forget the pain I've caused._

His hand trickled around from the neck, sliding down the thin chest. Akito sucked his breath.

Hatori trailed his naked fingers down as far as he dared, keeping his eyes locked with his god's. Akito was lithe, lean as a dancer, a beautiful little god sitting naked in a bath.

_My fingers are on his hips…they're as slender as a twelve-year-old's. Oh, this is maddening. He's eighteen but his body is so much younger…so young and perfect, smooth and nubile. Oh God, oh God. Is this wrong? Is what I am doing wrong?_

The Dragon watched Akito's face as he teased him with light caresses, little fluttering touches that never lasted long enough, moving across Akito's skin like silk. When he had enmeshed the god in a pink glow of fingers, Akito shuddered and leaned against the bath. "Stop it. You're just playing with me." He put his head on the side.

Hatori could smell the warm wet hair. "What would you like me to do, Akito-san?"

"You know," Akito whispered duskily. "You know." He reached out with one dripping finger and touched Hatori's lips. A tingle shot through him.

"Akito-san..."

Akito smiled. He took Hatori by the tie and tugged him towards him, until Hatori could feel water dripping on his neck. Akito started planting wet, soft kisses around the Dragon's face, never on the lips, until Hatori was flushed and aching. Only then did Akito chuckle and let him feed on his open mouth.

_My eyes are closed. So are his, but I can still see the after-image of wet lashes against his cheeks. This time, there are no tears. I can see the negative image of his body pasted against the darkness of my eyelids, a glowing ghost. I can feel him with my hands – his thin shoulders, soft slick nape, incurved abdomen and _

Hatori yelped. Akito had slid his hot little paws into his shirt, their heat assaulting and arousing the Dragon. He responded by reaching for that special heated place between the god's legs – and when his hand located what it sought a dreamy, dark expression flitted over Akito's face.

"Ahh…Hatori…"

His moan was swallowed by the Dragon's mouth.

Akito tugged on his hand, urging it, shuddering into Hatori's neck. Even in this solitary ecstasy he kissed his Dragon, coming darkly near, then jerking back.

Hatori breathed the scent of wet skin as he investigated the warm hollow of Akito's throat. He felt the boy's thighs grip his wrist; then relax.

He lifted the slumped god out of the tub, then wrapped him in a white cotton robe. Akito was completely limp, head thrown back like a dead boy's. Hatori pressed the warm bundle to him and carried the god to his bed.

He laid Akito on warm sheets. He could still feel the delicious heat from the bath water radiating off the slight body. Akito smelt of bath oil and soap and Hatori was intoxicated. He wrapped the scents around him like scarves.

The boy appeared to be asleep. Hatori looked one last time at the cherubic image on the sheets.

He wanted to kiss him again so badly. But while in the bedroom, his sharply-trained eyes had noticed Akito's glazed-glass stare, his pallid cheeks, and slight, almost unnoticeable twitching. The god was drugged. Perhaps he hadn't even noticed Hatori's caresses.

Then he remembered Akito's slithering little tongue in his mouth. No, Akito had _definitely_ responded.

So why did he feel so guilty? Hatori felt like he was taking _advantage _of Akito, in his semi-helpless state.

_This is wrong…isn't it?_

He started to leave.

"Don't go…Hatori."

A hot little hand grasped his sleeve. As he turned, Akito tugged on it.

"Don't leave…again."

Hatori took a deep breath. After all, this was what he wanted. "Never…Akito-san." He lay down on the bed, right next to the boy-god.

Akito reached up, and with one pale hand, began to explore the Dragon's face. He remembered every hollow and ridge, the dry softness of the lips. When he reached the left eye, he paused. Then his fingers brushed over it, up to the temples, and Hatori breathed again.

He liked the crisp, clean smell that Hatori's shirts smelt of, his pale, toned body and icy bluegreen eyes. Akito was reminded of Chinese dragon carved from ivory. He could sense Hatori's Zodiac nature – the _real _Dragon, coiled hidden under the skin. He could sense fire, and scales, claws, and wings. To have such power unleashed upon him made him tremble.

"Akito-san?"

The god opened his eyes. Hatori was leaning over him, concern on his gentle features. Akito realised his slight shaking had alarmed the Dragon.

"Are you all right?"

"I am now." Akito put his arms around Hatori's neck and kissed him.

This seemed to trigger the Dragon, because at once he was kissing back passionately, his hands all over the god's slight body. Akito was thrilled at the sudden speed and heat and he gasped. This was what he wanted, this fire…

In no time at all he had removed the doctor's clothes with miraculous speed. Hatori ached as Akito's dark head drew further down his midriff, licking, teasing. He shuddered as his zip was opened.

"What are you…_ahh…"_

Little lips were on him, little teeth were nipping, a little tongue was lathering him, up and down and up and down and up

he was going to explode, as only Dragons can, in flame

_ahhh akito_

It stopped. Hatori made a keening sound, deprived of his completion. Akito kissed the imprint of his slacks pressed onto his skin, and moved up. He straddled Hatori and leaned forward so his black bangs tickled Hatori's face. He was naked.

"Not yet…"

He began grinding his hips into the Dragon's, gasping as Hatori began arching against him. The Zodiac connection had turned into a delicious friction that was rubbing them raw.

Hatori looked into Akito's face.

For a moment, he thought he saw something else. Something that looked like Akito but was radiant-

He entered another plane of being where nothing else mattered, save for their two bodies working against each other, a hot golden sphere that was expanding…

_ohhhh god_

Akito pitched forward and Hatori came after him, shouting as his release flooded between them, completely consumed. The god shuddered as the Dragon's fire prickled and tingled against his belly.

Hatori shut his eyes as radiant after-glow closed in from all sides. He was still hard, and when a mouth closed around him he clutched the sheets. Akito teased him cruelly, until he was an inch from the abyss, then abandoned the use of his mouth and started feeling Hatori up and down…regular and even, then slowing, almost stopping...squeezing, then moving again, until the Dragon came so hard his ears rang.

"Where did you learn that?" he croaked weakly.

"I improvised," Akito whispered smugly, leaning over to nip at the doctor's hipbones, "Now…turn over."

The doctor almost refused, he was exhausted, but then Akito pressed his mouth over his own and breathed tingly, cool energy down his throat. He did so, and the god slipped inside.

Hatori thought it would hurt but it didn't, there wasn't anything more natural and right in this world. He thought he'd spent himself but as Akito started to rock him with slow, steady strokes, there was the far-off hot tingle in his stomach and he arched his head. He regained in two heartbeats the hardness he'd lost, cock touching his midriff.

The god thought he was sheathed in hot silk. Hatori's sharp hipbones were pressed against his fingers, he achieved a steady luscious rhythm that was slow enough to prolong this hot throbbing sweetness but not fast enough to undo him. That was it. Slow and rocking.

He pressed Hatori to him and the Dragon submitted, reaching back to clasp Akito's hips, driving the god deeper in. He wriggled as Akito hit a certain spot.

"Ah! Harder…"

He was hit again and cried out.

Akito began bucking his length in and out, withdrawing so just the head nuzzled before driving himself in again. Hatori felt the god swell inside him. He was near, so near-

A little hand was on him, pumping him, slicking up and down his weeping cock. He felt teeth bite into his shoulder.

And he came, hard and furious, feeling Akito release inside him, spasming against him. There was no finer hurt. He wished it would last forever.

Akito withdrew and fell to his side, eyes closed. He seemed diminished, almost translucent. Hatori cupped the boy's downy cheek: hot, but whether from the exertion of sex or fever he couldn't tell. He remembered Akito breathing life down his throat.

"Akito-san…are you all right?"

Akito mumbled something. Hatori felt his insides clench, if he'd hurt Akito in any way…

"What?"

Akito's languid dark eyes opened. "I said, I'm fine. And don't call me –san…it's Akito now."

"I see." The doctor felt the words pull away from his lips: "Am I forgiven?"

The god massaged his wrist, sore from lovemaking. "Not yet."

He put two fingers on Hatori's forehead. "Sleep." He watched the Dragon sink into the sheets. Akito himself dozed for a bit, before waking and sitting slowly up in the bed.

He glanced at Hatori

_You haven't seen Minekura yet…have you, my Dragon?_

---

Let me remind you that this fic is complete. I'm asking for 5 reviews a chapter before I update. This is not a lot, I could ask for 10. We have two chapters to go and I think they're some of my best. So…review and I will update and hold you dear in my heart. :D


	7. The Ox is Yoked

People are familiar with the concept that Akito is regarded as a god, but in this fic I have actually made him one...or at least capable of becoming one. I've given him strange, rather dark abilities (making Kiro's eye bleed, keeping him alive, etc, plus some others that will appear later in this chapter) so he can't be thought of as a Messianic figure. (As if). :D

I've just realised that Kiro's sole purpose for being in this fic is to be Akito's, well, 'stress-ball.' Or punching bag. Something to take your anger out on anyway. I'm feeling a little guilty about it. As this is fic is finished (but we have one more chapter to go!) I can say that, er, things don't come to a happy ending for him. Not really anyway. Yup. Feeling guilty now.

* * *

Akito watched Hatori's sleeping back for a long time. 

Then he slipped from the sheets, pulled on his yukata and padded silently out into the corridor. The shadows followed him, snuffling and rubbing against his ankles. Akito walked wraith-like through the corridors until he found the Ox's room. The moon shone whitely through the window, it was under the moon he felt his blood tingle. The door opened on its hinges and the god slipped inside.

On the floor was a figure, a halo of black blood surrounding his head.

Akito knelt, and swiped his finger along the man's left cheek. He sucked the warm blood off with every sign of enjoyment.

"Hello, Minekura. You've been a very good Ox. Very silent and patient. You didn't try and yell when you heard him come in, did you? No? Good." The god absently wiped the last few specks of blood on Kiro's shirt.

"He came back to me. As I knew he would. I called him, from here." He made a white fist over his heart. "He felt me, right here. I'm in present in every fibre of his being. His blood, his breath…they are all mine. I give him his life.

"He was mine before he was yours, Minekura. His loyalty and subservience to me are deeper and more ingrained in him then your pathetic friendship. That's why he's sleeping peacefully in my bed right now instead of wondering where **you **are." He watched Kiro's eyes widen. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? Hatori's happiness? He's happy right now: asleep and _satisfied."_

Kiro saw, through a red veil, a darkness lapping at the god's young ankles, a night that flowed around and through him, the same colour as Akito's eyes. He twitched.

Akito shook his head. "You can't move. You're still immobilised. But," he cried, as if giving out a special treat, "I've also stopped the blood seeping from your eye. Isn't that wonderful? You were starting to disgust me anyway: your unhygienic bloody bandages, that ever-present stench of blood." He rocked back and forth on his heels.

"I bet you hate me now, Kiro Minekura. I bet you're wishing you never got involved with the Sohmas. That you never met Hatori. Or that you never met _me."_

Akito took a fistful of dark matted hair and yanked upwards. "Say it."

Kiro looked at him, uncomprehending.

"Say it. Say you hate me." Akito's voice grew lower and darker. "Hate me like all the others. Say that I ruined your life. _Say you hate me."_

The Ox merely stared at him, one eye dulled.

"**Say it!" **Akito backhanded Kiro, hissing as pain thundered down his knuckles. "Say it, or I'll do things to you that will make your little haemorrhage seem like a spa treatment."

"I don't hate you."

That voice, that broken, exhausted, lowing voice made the god pause.

"What?"

"I…don't…hate you." Kiro's voice was going. He had wasted it screaming raw earlier on, when Akito was having his fun, before the asthma attack. There was blood in his throat. There was blood everywhere.

"Well, you will." Akito looked away. "They all hate me, in the end. Even Hatori will hate me…but his devotion outweighs that." He leaned down and whispered hotly into Kiro's ear. "You're really mine now. I've marked you permanently. Did you look at your back?" He let out a young giggle.

Kiro felt something inside him shrivel. No, he hadn't looked at his back. He didn't want to. No doubt the mad god had inscribed something twisted – because he could remember every calculated scratch of the knife. He was still sticky, under his bandages.

Akito got up and stretched, cat-like. "Well, Minekura, now that Hatori is back to care for me, you're no longer needed. All in all, I'll give you a glowing reference: your medical attention to me was professional and you really helped keep away my boredom." He giggled again. "You can get up, if you want…oh, you can't move, can you?"

Akito knelt and placed his spidery fingers on Kiro's temples. He whispered something. The doctor jerked as something raced through his joints, then died.

"There." The boy stood, breathing a little harder. "You're free to try and walk out, or _crawl_ out, as you wish." His eyes glinted cruelly. "But you probably won't get far. You tell no one of what happened to you…no one would believe you anyway. Because I have ways of finding people. You might think I can't do much, locked up in this pestilential house," Akito spat, "but I have ways of finding people. Remember that."

He paused in the doorway. "I wonder what Hatori's face will look like, when he sees your own? Certainly a spectacle not to be missed."

And he left the prone Ox, his small feet carrying him away, small back receding. The night followed, curling at his ankles. Kiro lay very still.

His back began to sting…

---

**Flashback**

**7.30 a.m., the same day**

_He sits propped upright on his pillows, asleep, hands placed straight at his sides. Akito. He lifts one eyelid and glares at me as I take his thin wrist and remove the bandage to replace it. Akito. The boy who is not a boy, at all._

"_Surely it's too early to do that," he snaps. He's angry because I woke him. "You can do that later – let me sleep. You're always banging on about how I should rest, _so let me sleep."

"_Vitamins," I remind him, and he scratches me with his little claws out of pique. He really can be a child. "Vitamins and medication."_

_Another poisonous look, he snatches the little pills and chewy tablets from my hand, makes a little hollow in his blanket, and dumps them in. It's his little ritual. He hoards them, then takes them, to show he doesn't need my help._

_I give him a glass of water. He grasps it with his healthy left fist, sets it down, pops a couple of pills expertly in his mouth. He washes them down, gags a little. Akito saves the chewy tablets for last – they're dry, hard, and require more concentration and water. I watch him crunch them up, make a face for my benefit, and swallow. He coughs a little, little white waxy face crinkling._

"_Disgusting," he pronounces, then flops back, already weak._

_I should have been more careful._

_I should have known. _

_But it never crossed my mind as I looked at him at that moment that such a sickly-looking boy could do what he did to me, that morning. My throbbing eye hadn't taught me anything._

_I change his bandage – the bone is almost completely healed. I cup his warm throat and neck, looking for swollen glands (only one), listen to his chest (phlegmy), his ears (ok), and his eyes. As I gently hold his eyelid up, examining the gloss and red muscle, I can feel him concentrating towards me rays of spectral hate. _

"_You should examine your own eye," he says, cuttingly, "I mean; it's not supposed to bleed like that, is it?" I ignore his falsely innocent tone. _

_He tilts his head back. "You stink of blood, Minekura." That pink tongue darts out and licks his upper lip. I stand back. A tinge of dizziness hits me and I blink._

"_I'm done with your check-up, Akito-sama. You may go back to bed now." _

_He's watching me. Staring at me intently. I try and look away from that liquid gaze._

"_You should drink lots of fluids…and…" A buzzing, a buzzing in my head. The floor reels below me, before I know it, I'm on my knees. My stethoscope falls with a clatter._

_Akito leans over, arms folded, watching me with interest. I notice distantly that his eyes are hot and glowing. _

"_Keep still, Minekura. Now this is where my real fun begins."_

_My limbs become watery reflections of themselves. Ice shoots through my joints and nerve-endings, I'm freezing up-_

_-I can see someone's foot. It's small, shapely, covered in ivory skin. It pokes out from the hem of a yukata. Its twin nestles next to it._

_I try and move. Nothing. _

_I try and shout. My voice comes, in its natural basso profundo, but it's swallowed up by the presence standing in front of me. As if it was a vacuum for sound._

"_Be still and quiet, Minekura."_

_Akito. Out of bed. Walking around me, almost floating. He is different, different from how I always saw him – sickly, white, bony, coughing. He is not that now. He is luminous, slim and sleek. He smells like gods should smell: of nectar and lotus-blossoms. A subtle energy radiates from his core, his ivory feet touch and lift with the uttermost grace and beauty. _

_This is Akito, the Zodiac God. I gape at the transformation._

_The god kneels. I'm so busy staring into his large, liquid eyes, at the shining black hair framing his face that I don't notice the glinting thing in his right hand. _

_He holds it in front of me. Light siphons off its surface, spiralling into my right eye. _

_It's a scalpel._

_Akito smiles, showing his small white teeth. It lights up his face. "This is yours, by the way. I found it in your medical bag. My, what things doctors are allowed to carry…" He pings it. _

_Mad god or not, I have to try and reason with him. This is many times worse then when he smashed a vase against my face. "Akito. Put the scalpel down."_

_He shakes his head. He clutches it like some precious, precious toy. "No. I don't think I will."_

"_Akito –"_

_He silences me with one gesture. My voice goes. _

_And then I realise something…he's holding the scalpel in his **right **hand…_

_He sees it on my face. "I don't hurt when I'm like this." He gestures at himself, he doesn't need to. Akito stands, a miniature Greek god. _

"_I can only invoke…_myself, _I should say, my godlike essence…what you're looking at right now…with the right amount of effort and concentration. I tend to use it VERY sparingly, it takes A LOT out of me and I'm sure I'll pay for it later. I always do. That's the price of power. Live in Hell to have a few minutes of Heaven._

"_I want all of my strength focused when I use this on you." He twirls the scalpel. "Sooner or later, everything comes down to blood." He starts walking around me again. My blood-beat is loud in my ears, I can feel my eye start to bleed again, pulsing. _

"_I know you've bled. But whatever you've lost, it will never be enough. And I want something that other people can SEE, and know without doubt, that you are marked by the Zodiac."_

_He says a lot of other things, raving things, mad things; I'm not listening but following the scalpel as he moves it through the air like a maestro. Already my skin is beginning to prick._

_He's behind me now. I feel violent motions behind me, and suddenly cool air flowing across my back. Akito has sliced my shirt off. I never even felt the blade. _

"_You ARE strong." He nudges me with his foot. "I can see every one of your muscles – now let's put something pretty on them."_

_It is rape. _

_It feels like rape. He straddles me, one hand gripping my shoulder, as he carves whatever madness has infected him into my flesh. I can do nothing. I couldn't move even if I was able to – the god holds me with supernatural strength. _

_It is rape._

_The blade is slow, is fast, cutting, penetrating into me with a surgeon's precision. Cutting deep. The blade is inorganic, cold and indifferent to my microscopic thrashings, my yells, my pleas, my threats, my blood. Akito gets more and more excited, starts to move against me lecherously. I try and buck him off. Impossible. _

_It is rape._

_I scream and scream. All noise is swallowed into the cold vacuum of his being. I scream until my throat is red-raw and I spit blood onto the floor. After that I just croak. Oh God, this pain, this white-hot agony…_

_At one point I lose so much blood that I'm a few dark stirrings away from complete unconsciousness, but I can still hear his young laughter, feel that coldness, feel his weight on me. He won't let me pass out. Every now and then he lifts my head and breathes life down my throat, my head clears and I know I'll be awake for a little while longer. _

_I am terrified of the Zodiac God._

_It's all over now. He's finished. I feel sticky, used, bruised, filthy. We've both sweated, the air above us is cloy with it. I have never felt so disgusting in my entire life._

_Akito stands. He looks like he escaped from a slaughterhouse. He looks like a heathen god fresh from a ritual sacrifice, red swirls painting his face, hands, yukata. On him, the blood looks beautiful. _

_He runs his pink little kitten tongue down the blade. He laps at the redness like milk. He grins._

"_Your final punishment is complete, Minekura."_

_He slips the scalpel in some secreted pocket. I lie helpless in front of this godlike child, stained with my own life, and tremble. _

_Akito sighs: the magic is leaving him. As I watch, his luminous skin fades, his eyes lose some of their lustre, his posture slumps. His power is gone. He is simply Akito Sohma, breathing asthmatically, bony chest rising and falling. _

_He sits on some floor not stained by me, then reaches out and strokes my face like a lover. We are practically lovers, now. His touch is cold, acrid. The boy examines my injured eye with his thumb._

"_Very pretty."_

_He pokes it. I make an animal sound. _

_The god laughs, starts coughing. When that stops, his face is pale and drawn. He places his fingers on my temples and removes whatever has been holding me. I feel the stiffness leave my bones. _

_Akito tugs at a strand of hair. "You're going to be stiff for a while. Now…" He slides his heartless eyes over me, "I'm going to call Hatori pretty soon, and he will return. I don't want you to intercept him. I don't want you to shout for help. You're bleeding, but you'll live. I gave you some of my life. You're practically a Juunishi." He chuckles, it turns into a sour cough. _

_He keeps on coughing. Pretty soon he's gasping for air, his chest pitching forward. I watch him numbly, unable to grasp it, I'm a third person witnessing this from somewhere outside. _

"_M-Minekura!"_

_That pathetic, hoarse little voice stirs the doctor in me. In one second I'm on my feet, by the second, scooping that slim little body into my arms, by the third, out of the room (my own room, I realise), and into Akito's hot sickroom._

_He's already feverish. I open up his airways, but it's not enough. Only when I fix the oxygen mask on him does he breathe. He passes out, I slump._

_I come to my senses. Wash Akito off – he's covered in my tangy blood. I change his yukata, throw the other one away. But before I do, I slip the scalpel out._

_I stare at it for a long time._

_There's no way I can use this thing again. Not when it's been baptised in my own blood, I could never use it on another patient. I'll be cutting myself open._

_I throw it away too. _

_Akito's half-conscious now, eyes just open. He watches me. I mutter something about getting some rest and stagger from the room. My spine is all sticky, little flames of pain are crawling along it. I don't want to know what he carved. _

_I go back to my room. Instead of changing and tending to myself like I should, I throw myself into a frenzy of cleaning all the spilt blood on the floor. I don't want Hari to see this. It's more then I can stand._

_I do what I can, but the linoleum will always have some strange, brown patches here and there. Then I shuck off my trousers and dump them in hamper. I avoid the mirror as I walk into the bathroom, and turn the shower on._

_Soon the water around my feet is red. The hot water is like acid on my back but I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. I just want to wash the smell of blood away. _

_I'm out, I'm in clean clothes, my back is bandaged. I have to stand ramrod-straight or it aches. _

_Tentatively, I start to feel safe. I stuffed Akito full of morphine – not only will it makes his chest stop hurting but he won't be in any mood to play with me, as is his want._

_I'm so, so stupid._

_You can't outwit a god._

_Just as I reach for a new bandage, his hoarse little voice whispers in my ear: "I'm not letting you go anywhere yet, Minekura. I want you to stay perfectly still –"_

_My joints lock together, there's that freezing sensation again. I crash to the floor, completely paralyzed. He doesn't want me running away. That little monster!_

"_- and stay there until I come in later. Remember, Hatori will be coming. Don't interfere."_

_His voice dies away. My eye begins to seep, from my panicked heartbeats. _

"_You're a monster!" I scream, my control finally breaking. "You're a monster, you hear me? Not a god, A MONSTER!"_

_I scream other things, pausing to spit blood. The sound is sucked up. _

_It's no use. My rage passes, leaving behind nothing but eerie placidity. I lay my head on the rough floor. _

_I don't hate him. Even after what he did, after what I yelled, I can't bring myself to hate him. Because all I remember are those long, black nights when he begged me to stay, to keep him warm, to keep him company. Little fingers clutching at my shirt. Oh God. _

_Hours later, I hear Hari's familiar, sombre footsteps. They walk past my door. I keep my cries locked behind my teeth. I don't want to face any more of Akito's wrath._

**End flashback**

---

Kiro picked himself off the floor, wincing. The left side of his face was one long black smear. There was no way he could leave in this condition. He glanced at himself in the mirror: blood-caked, a haunted eye, a face that had once been handsome. He looked like a criminal. Kiro laughed hollowly.

Akito never intended for him to leave.

He was waiting for a special moment: when Kiro came face-to-face with Hatori. That was the point of his punishment, to see Hatori recoil.

There was nothing he could do. The yoked Ox wiped at his face with a towel, and sat on the bed, waiting for the morning.

---

Hatori woke, yawned, and stretched. For a moment, his arm landed on something warm beside him. He blinked as Akito raised his dazed dark-tousled head from the sheets and looked at him. The boy's eyes were sheened with sleep.

"Good morning, Hatori." He gave a small yawn.

The doctor held his breath, wondering what he was doing in Akito's bed. Then the adolescent flopped by his side with a small noise and he remembered last night. He leaned down and kissed Akito on the head.

"Don't." Akito withdrew under the covers. "I'm not in the mood for that this early in the morning."

Hatori laughed. He felt so refreshed.

As he threw back the sheets, he noticed a spot of red.

"Akito?" He turned to his young lover, who was scrabbling for the covers in annoyance, "Akito, what's this?"

The boy focused on the light stain. "Oh, that?" He licked his lips. "That was from a few days ago. I had a nosebleed. Now, are you going to let me freeze to death?" With that, he snatched the blankets and re-made his little nest.

The Dragon wasn't offended. He knew Akito too well. He left the god to his rest and went to his room, and put on clean clothes. As he combed his hair, he caught himself whistling.

Hatori padded along the halls of the Main House, familiarising himself again with their dark silences, hushed servants, woolly floors.

There was a nagging feeling in the base of his spine. Something important he'd forgotten, something that had faded to a background buzzing in his mind, overshadowed by Akito. Something…some voice…some person…

_I want you to get better_

_Hatori, I'm warning you every day you're gone_

_Ha-san listen to me ok_

_I'm warning you_

_don't come back because you have to…whatever you may hear_

_every day you're gone_

Please_…just do it ok_

_the more someone else will suffer because of it_

_the more_

_someone else_

_will suffer_

Hatori stopped dead.

He grasped his face. He couldn't believe how selfish he had been. How he had quietly, guiltily ignored Akito's warning. "No…shit, no…"

The Dragon looked over his shoulder, half-expecting Akito to be looking at him, smirking. The power Akito held over him was immense. He shivered: _I was completely under his spell…_

_I still am._

The doctor began walking rapidly towards the guest rooms. _Where is he? I haven't seen him…I barely thought about him…_

He remembered which room was Kiro's. He eyed the solid door, then knocked. Nothing. If he pressed his ear to it, he could hear water running. Perhaps Kiro was taking a shower? Maybe. Hatori was about to turn away, but something made him pause.

There were brown finger-prints on the doorknob. He stared.

No…not brown. A sort of darkish-red, becoming brown.

Hatori straightened, pulse quickening, and rapped on the door.

"…Who is it?"

The Dragon jerked his head in shock. When had his friend's lowing voice sounded so tired, so cracked, so _frightened?_

"Ki-san? It's me. Hatori."

He was treated to one of the longest, deepest silences he could remember.

"Kiro?" He knocked again. "Can I come in?"

The sound of running water stopped. "No. I really don't think that's a good idea, Ha-san."

"Why not?" Hatori pressed his ear to the door. "I want to see you. Let me in, Kiro."

"No." Kiro's voice was taking on a panicked edge.

The doctor took a breath. "Let me ask you something: why is there dried blood on the doorknob, Kiro? Are you hurt?"

He heard a sharp inhalation. The Ox didn't respond.

"I'm coming in." The knob yielded beneath his fingers. He came into the room.

* * *

Next chapter we will see what Hatori will do about Kiro and what Akito thinks of all this… 

ACHTUNG! As a special favour to SunMoonAndSpoon, fellow FB authoress, for pimping out this fic, I shall pimp out hers! Ok, now everyone MUST read 'Everybody Wants Her,' because it is delicious and nutritious. Also it's very well written and has a smattering of Akito/Hatori. And it's hilarious and gross and disturbing and what more reasons do you need really? Oh yes: it's full of Aki-kun! GO READ IT NOW! AND REVIEW IT…AND THIS CHAPTER!


	8. I Am Yours, Akito

A/N: Posted 'cause I really wanna finish this fic! And thanks to all people who reviewed, they mean so much to me...and for those who didn't, BOO TO YOU. Unless you do review in which case I take it back.

And now...the last chapter.

* * *

Kiro was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but some khaki trousers. His chest was bare; he was clutching a shirt like it was the last real thing in this world. His head was lowered, but this couldn't hide the bandage Hatori saw winding around it. Or the naked scrape down the side of his cheek.

He opened his mouth, then caught their reflections in the mirror behind Kiro. Hatori made a guttural sound.

Kiro had removed his bandages, so Hatori could see the man's muscled back in the mirror…if 'back' was the word for the mass of mutilated flesh reflected in that shiny surface. Everything took on a slow, dream-like quality that happens in certain situations. Hatori saw, with awful clarity, the 12 Zodiac animals carved into Kiro's skin, the web that linked them all, and in the centre, one red word:

**AKITO'S**

He saw the whiskers on the Tiger, the Boar's bristles, all the congealed, sloppily-knitting scar tissue. It was an etching, a carving, done with the most wondrous artistic skill, scarred into his friend's back. Forever.

He took a step forward. Kiro saw his face, saw that Hatori was looking behind him, and started babbling. Hatori felt himself move forward, saw his palm move slowly up until his fingers were on Kiro's white bandage.

"Oh God," he whispered, "Oh God…what has he done to you…"

_I've already punished you, Hatori…in so many ways_

The Dragon closed his eyes.

_I'll_ _take whatever punishment you ordain_

"This," he said slowly, "is my fault. Everything…is my fault."

Kiro was already shaking his head. "No. No, it's not. Akito said this was my punishment for letting you go to Shigure's. For conspiring against him."

"He said that to you, but it was about me." Hatori couldn't believe how calm he sounded. "Kiro…did you look at your back?"

The man recoiled as if scalded. "No, no…"

"Then don't." Hatori saw the Ox trembling, his thin, quick breaths, and directed him to the bed. "Sit down: you're about to collapse from exhaustion. Let me…just…" He swallowed, "…look at your eye." He reached out.

Kiro jerked back, then flushed as he saw Hatori's face. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Ha-san…"

"Don't be." The doctor felt his own eye pang in sympathy. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to examine it…"

He kept talking in this soothing monotone; reassuring; murmuring as if to a wounded animal. He unwrapped the bandages, couldn't stop himself gasping at the extensive damage. "Can…you see anything?"

Kiro shook his head miserably. "A few days ago I could distinguish light from dark. Now…now nothing."

"Ok." He studied it some more. "How…?"

Kiro mumbled something about Akito's anger and a vase. Hatori's rigid discipline stopped him from shaking. "When?"

"The day you left."

_That means…the day I talked to you on the phone, you were wearing a bandage over your eye. No wonder you sounded strange. _Vomit rose in his throat and he swallowed thickly.

Kiro was rocking back and forth. "Akito," he muttered, "made it bleed…it wouldn't stop bleeding it wouldn't stop no matter what I did it wouldn't stop but he kept me _alive…"_

"Shhh." Hatori re-applied the bandage, feeling nauseous. "I'm going to look at your back later. I'm going to give you some sleeping pills, and you're –"

He stopped as the man gripped his hand. "Listen to me," Kiro said quietly, so quietly that Hatori bent down, "Just listen, Hari…I know…I know you love him…but he isn't _human, _Hari…" His voice was beginning to fray at the edges.

"Kiro..."

"I saw him. The _real _him. The one that you and the others worship."

Hatori gently eased his hand from Kiro's iron grip. The man's tawny right eye was unnaturally bright. "Kiro. Don't talk about it. Calm down: I think you have a fever…"

"You haven't seen him, have you? Have you, Hari?"

The doctor carefully put a blanket around the bare shoulders. "I'm going to get the sleeping pills now."

"…You think I'm making this up."

"I want you to sit quietly." He felt the solid door behind him.

"How can you love him?" Kiro looked at Hatori with one single dead eye.

"I…just…" He scrabbled for the knob.

"How can you love him, Hari? _You don't even know who he really is –"_

As soon as he closed the door, Hatori leaned against the wall. He couldn't believe the extent of Akito's madness.

_That eye. That back. That carving._

_He was bleeding and helpless while Akito and I were…_

He barely made it to the toilet.

Hatori wiped his mouth, then rinsed out, spitting the sour taste from his tongue. He looked in the mirror: pale, sweaty. His stomach was nothing but bile and acid. He rubbed viciously at his face with a towel.

Outside Kiro's door with its brown sticky knob he breathed deep and evenly. He made sure to wipe the sweat off the orange canister he was clutching before opening the door.

"I want you to take two of these, and later when you're feeling better I'll look at your back. All right?"

Kiro looked at him glassily. The scrape on his face flamed bright and pink.

Hatori gave him a glass. Kiro tried to drink but the cool slimy water made him retch and he coughed pink-stained liquid onto the floor.

He felt Hatori's hands on his face. "I can't…I can't drink…it tastes like…"

_my blood_

"I can give you an injection."

Kiro thought of glinting metal. "No."

"Then…" Hatori surveyed Kiro with his bluegreen eyes, saw the exhausted twitching and opaque expression. "Why don't I stay here…until you fall asleep."

"Why don't…" Kiro jerked up his nodding head, "…you believe me?"

"Believe what?"

"Your lover…is not…"

The world began to dissolve, colours running together to form an endless stream. Hatori's figure became fuzzy and immaterial. Kiro felt hands on him, coaxing him down. He resisted. "He's not human…he's something else…I _saw_…"

"Go to sleep, Kiro." Hatori supported the Ox's lolling head.

"No." Kiro curled his fingers around Hatori's tie. "Hari…you're not _listening to me."_

The Dragon gave up trying to make his friend lie down; it was like moving a brick wall. Instead he kneeled beside Kiro and clasped the man's paw with his own hand. "All right," he said quietly, "What?"

"He smelt like blossoms." The tawny eye was already closed. "His eyes were shining and yet so dark…and his voice was like bells but what he said was so terrible…and his hands were so soft and white _but what they did was –"_

"Shhh." Hatori helped him lie down on his stomach. "Go to sleep."

"Ha'ri…" Kiro lowed, almost unconscious, "'M sorry…'m sorry, Ha'ri."

Hatori felt his icy heart shatter into a million pieces.

"…There's nothing to apologise for."

He watched until his friend's breaths were so deep and slow as to be almost non-existent before carefully drawing the blanket over him. He stood quietly. As he cast his gaze around the floor his eye caught the several brown stains. He sniffed. There was a lingering coppery smell.

Hatori stood very still and didn't look at the sleeping figure behind him.

_This was your altar. This is where you sacrificed your Ox…Akito. _

He touched his eye.

_How many more people are to be hurt…because of me?_

_---_

Akito draped himself across his wooden porch. Watery sunlight trickled over his body, pooling in his collarbone, yukata, anywhere where his flesh hollowed. It felt warm, and soothing, and the god sighed. His muscles were tender and sore from last night, the sunlight made the pain transform into a drowsy hum.

He felt a chill: his Dragon was behind him. And angry, too. Akito felt it radiate off him in glacial waves.

"That stain on the sheets," Hatori said calmly, "It wasn't your blood, was it."

The god shrugged. Yawned.

"Was it. Akito."

"Who cares if it was or wasn't." Akito turned his mink-dark head. "I know you're angry at me, Hatori. I can tell."

"Tell me. Tell me that isn't your blood on the sheets. You never had a nosebleed, did you." The doctor felt his cool palms pressed against his fingers. His icy coldness was back – it glittered in his eyes.

"No," Akito said placidly, "No, it wasn't my blood." He shrugged again. "There, I said it. What's your point, Hatori?"

Hatori said nothing.

"Why are you so angry?" The boy-god finally rolled over to face Hatori. The sun's rays reflected and hovered above Akito's head in a golden halo. He looked like a saint. The Dragon wasn't swayed.

"Why, Akito? Why did you hurt him?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"No."

"Well, I had my reasons." Akito curled his knees up to his chest, revealing little white ankles. "Funny thing is, I don't really remember them right now…"

"Stop it, Akito."

Birds twittered outside. Akito smiled, running his fingers along the woodwork.

"What did you look like, Hatori?"

"What?"

"Your _face."_ Akito slid an elbow under his chin. His eyes danced. "What did you look like, when you saw him? What was your _expression?_ Show me."

The doctor stiffened. His mouth was a thin line.

"I decorated his back a little before you came, you know." The god sucked one finger where a splinter had got him. "I paralysed him, and made him promise not to shout for help when you came in." He ignored the keening noises Hatori was making.

"I bet he was bleeding for a long time."

The doctor took his fist out of his mouth and stared at the boy. He couldn't believe how he could love the sick, psychotic, grinning adolescent lying smug as a cat in front of him. But he did.

"He was just lying there, helpless, in pain, bleeding, while _you _and _I_ were _fucking_.**" **Hatori quivered at those echoing words. "That image really made last night all the more wonderful…"

Akito tugged his yukata back onto his shoulder. "He was my punishment for you, Hatori. Didn't it hurt when you saw him? When you saw his eye? His back?"

"All he did was care for you –"

"You're not _listening to me." _Hatori's eyes widened. "Did you think, when you hurt me, I wouldn't hurt you back in some way? Did you think you could hurt **me, **your **God, **and escape punishment?"

"If you have something against me, Akito, then why don't_ –_"

"Would you rather I'd done it to you?"

Akito saw Hatori blanch, and regretted his words instantly. But he couldn't call them back. He went on:

"If you could, would you switch places with Minekura, right now?"

The Dragon lowered his head, feeling a horrible heat on his face. He shoved his shaking hands in his pockets.

"Well?"

When Hatori didn't answer, Akito smiled. He got up and tugged at the man until the Dragon was kneeling in front of him. The god whispered against Hatori's temple, "You broke my bones, so I hurt him. You left without telling me, so I hurt him. He didn't tell me you left, so I hurt him. He's an outsider, so I hurt him. He _didn't fear me…_so I hurt him. See?

"I am a God…so I hurt him."

Hatori looked up into those lightless eyes, where shadows gathered. Akito kissed his forehead.

"Let me prove to you my divinity…Hatori. Then, you'll understand."

What Hatori Sohma experienced that morning came back to him later in a series of blurred sensations, memories that would appear soft and lingering as mist on his cheek. He remembered his nerve-endings tingling. He remembered soft, luminous skin, a pair of shining dark eyes, little hands on his chest. He remembered a boy's body glowing palely in a room of shadows. He remembered himself dissolving under a pink mouth, one last arch, one last throb, a sigh, a trembling child.

He remembered the smell of nectar and lotus blossoms, and afterwards, awash in after-glow, weeping. For what, he didn't know.

As they lay together on the bed, Akito twined his pale limbs around Hatori and rested his drowsy dark head on his Dragon's chest.

"Who are you, Hatori?"

He answered: "I am yours, Akito."

The god leaned forward and nibbled on his ear. "Then…then, my Dragon, you know what you have to do."

"What?"

"Regarding Minekura." Akito moved his attention to Hatori's pale neck. "There is one way of lessening his suffering. You know what I mean."

Hatori did. He gritted his teeth and covered his face with a hand, so he couldn't see Akito's expression.

---

_I walk the grounds in my grey trenchcoat. It's still summer, but the air today is unusually crisp and cool: it smells like the promise of autumn. The sharp wind stirs the trees. I made Akito stay inside: he's caught a cold from the drafts. _

_It's been a few days since Akito revealed himself to me. I'll never forget it, that wonder, as long as I live. I wonder what other secrets he's been hiding from the family. I wonder how and why. I wonder why I was the one allowed to touch that sacred body. _

_Kiro is still here. He's really not in any shape to leave and go back to the hospital where he used to work. He's in shock, in trauma. He jumps at the slightest sound. He flinches if you try and touch him, even casually, though he tries to smile it off. I know better._

_Those carvings on his back will scar. No surgery could possibly rectify what Akito has done. Kiro will bear the mark of the Zodiac until he dies. _

_Kana hovers in my memory, her fragrant, pale ghost haunts my dreams. I wake shivering, drenched in sweat, knowing that the same thing is happening again. I do not love Kiro as I did Kana, but I love him as a dear friend, with an indescribable tenderness and fondness: his slow, trusting smile, his limitless patience, and his curious deep lowing voice._

_It breaks my heart to see him as he is now._

_It's my fault._

_And I cannot, cannot blame Akito._

_Today, I will carry out his order. It's the only way I can help Kiro._

_He stands waiting for me by the edge of the pond, surveying the green glassy surface. We are alone. I want it to be this way, I want our privacy, away from the gossip and presence of the Main House. Where Akito is._

_I call his name – he looks over, smiles his slow and trusting smile, and for a minute he's the handsome young man I first met in medical school, as I remember him, leaning over and asking to borrow my textbook. I have to shake these memories away or I can't do what I'm here for._

_I survey him – I'm ever the watchful doctor. He stands stiff and straight, because of the scourge on his back. And his tawny eye has a hesitant look that wasn't there before._

"_What is it you want to talk to me about, Ha-san?"_

_I make some vague reply. I have to do this, I have to prepare myself. Akito's waiting somewhere inside, waiting for me to report back. I take a deep breath. _

"_Kiro…"_

_Oh Kami I can't do it. Even if will help him, I can't do it. My palms tremble, I dig my fingernails in until my eyes prick._

_I must've gone pale, or grey, because he's at my side, asking me what's wrong, do I want to sit down, should we discuss this inside? That makes my heart ache: I should be the one helping him. My resolve fires up again._

"_Kiro. What if I told you…there was a way you could forget what happened?"_

_He's confused. I expected that. He doesn't know what I mean, I never told him about my secret power and what I did to Kana, and Yuki's friends. _

"_So you could forget this." I touch the bandage on his head. "And this." I trail my fingers lightly on cloth of his jacket._

_To his credit, he doesn't flinch. "Ha-san?"_

"_I could," I go on, "make you forget about Akito and me and everything that's happened here. Forever."_

_Yes, he understands. I can see it in his face. He looks away, up at the dead grey sky, the thinning trees, the scummy surface of the pond. He bites his lip._

"_Forget?"_

"_Everything that Akito's done. All of your memories of the Main House. I can do this, Kiro, and it'll be like you were never involved."_

_He still looks worried. "Forget…about you, Ha-san?"_

_I nod. Yes. Me. I would erase, from my dearest friend, all those memories that were precious to me. Of our time together, our student days. Of staying up all night in each other's rooms, trying to memorise anatomical charts, of passing notes during lectures, of everything. Of later days, when we visited each other, and called each other, proud of our medical degrees hanging in our offices. Everything._

_Kiro shakes his head. "I don't want to forget about you, Ha-san."_

_I'm crying. I have to do this. _

"_Just…the memories of Akito, then. All those hours. You'll still remember me. I promise."_

_He looks at me, a little distressed because of my tears. _

"_As long as I remember you," he lows, "That's what I want, then."_

_Yes. Yes._

_This isn't like the time with Kana. He still wants to remember me. I feel strong again. I can do this. I can take away some of the pain._

_His brow feels cool against my hot palm._

"_I promise…" My voice chokes. "I promise…this won't hurt. It'll be like falling asleep."_

_He's ready and waiting under my hand, I try and concentrate. There's that delicious flow of energy to my fingertips-_

_Then there's a glow, a jerk, he falls away from me. I catch him gently before he hits the ground, lay him down. There are no tears on those fine cheekbones, no sorrow resting on that sun-bronzed face. He looks asleep. _It's all over now,_ I whisper. _

_I feel a tug in my chest. I turn._

_Akito is standing on his porch. He's seen everything. Watching, wrapped in a quilt, bare feet poking out. His face is emotionless. He nods when I catch his eye, then turns and slips back into the darkness of his room. _

_I help some servants carry Kiro back to his room. I'll tell him a different story: the best I could explain those injuries was that he was the victim of a gang attack, and he came here later to recover. It's tenuous, but it will have to do._

_I hope I've buried the memories deep enough._

_It's late afternoon. I am with Akito, my god and lover. He leans against me, sniffling, coughing, wrapped in his large quilt. I made him take some medicine that causes drowsiness as a side-effect, and he jerks against me as he nods in and out of sleep. His cheeks are hollowed, his black hair dishevelled, his eyes glitter, but he's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen._

_If I squint, and concentrate hard, I can see his godlike beauty hidden under the layers of sickly flesh. I can see a faint luminescence, see a rosy glow on his neck, smell the faint scent of nectar. There is a god, hidden, locked away in this boy's body. _

_Akito's drowsy, feverish. He stares at me with eyes that are a million miles away. He clasps my hand and tells me he forgives me. His wrist has healed completely now._

_The god asks me who I am. _

_Who am I? I'm Hatori Sohma. The Dragon, the doctor._

_But I know what he means._

_I am yours, Akito. Always and forever, I am yours._

* * *

**FIN**

---

A/N: OMG! First Furuba fanfic completed! First of ANY of my fanfics completed! I hope the last chapters weren't too bad. If anyone flames me I might kill myself. Well, sulk, at least. Anyway…I plan to write MORE Akito/Hatori! As if I could stop now! And some other FB fics too, some not involving Akito. Maybe. :D Please review…and if there's any Akito/Hatori fans out there, go and write some Akito/Hatori shounen-ai! There's not enough on this site and I can't expect to do it all myself. However, I will have a lot of fun trying! XD


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